


Silver Linings

by beatlebun



Category: Glee
Genre: Hunger Games AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:24:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 111,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatlebun/pseuds/beatlebun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Blaine’s name gets reaped for the 73rd annual Hunger Games in Panem, he gets a lot more than what he bargained for. Together with his mentors, Cooper and Quinn, and stylist Kurt, he has to make sure to always be one step ahead of the Capitol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

 

Blaine has seen the faces before, shining with fear and disbelief. He's watched the big screens as his classmates, vague acquaintances and random strangers from throughout the Districts take the stage. Never had he expected to see his own face gracing the screen. No, not gracing, simply showing. Nothing about this walk up to the stage is graceful, nothing about hearing his name being shouted across the square at the Justice Building is as glamorous as the images on his television make it seem. When he entered his name this year, he had somewhat expected to be safe. He is eighteen, his last year of putting his name in the bowl and there was no way this could be his fate.

 

He looks up to the stage, into his brother's eyes and thinks  _God, what did my parents do to deserve this fate?_ It's a silly thought, of course, but he can't help thinking it. Cooper's eyes are wide with fear and bitterness, Blaine can see the way he's fighting back tears. He smiles, though, for the cameras. Always for the cameras. Blaine can't manage a smile, not like this where he knows he's walking towards his death. There's no way a family's odds can be this much in their favor.

 

He knows it's happened before, siblings being reaped. Even here, in District 9, it has happened before. Blaine knows it's happened, but never have two siblings survived that weren't Careers. Only trained people going into the Arena ever come out. And the occasional lucky one like Cooper Anderson. His brother, and from this point on out his Mentor. Next to Cooper stands his other Mentor, Quinn Fabray. She doesn't look as concerned, probably hasn't registered yet it's Blaine's name that has been called.

 

But it is, Blaine's name has been called and he is now climbing the stairs onto the stage. Cooper holds out his hand, Blaine takes it gracefully and tries to ignore the obvious sound of sobbing from where his mother is in the crowd. Her second son sent off to fight in the Arena, her second son to say goodbye to. He thinks, again, the only siblings ever survived are those who volunteered to enter the Arena, those who trained and trained and took another person's place. No one here will take his place. The only person who would, who cares that much, stands behind him and is supposed to help him get out of there.

 

Quinn still stares blankly ahead as Blaine takes his place next to Isabelle Wright, who grabs his hand, raises it above his head. She shouts his name in excitement. No one in the crowd cheers, it almost feels like no one even breathes. They all know, Blaine realizes, they all know Cooper Anderson's little brother is about to board the Death Express.

 

Blaine feels Cooper's hand on his back, he is sure Cooper is supposed to stand back, next to a motionless Quinn Fabray. Blaine knows her, knows her well. She the only neighbor they have in victor's Village, she's Cooper's best friend. She's a fierce woman, every year she is the one to give the new Tributes a bright smile. Cooper usually says she is the one to comfort them, tell them she and Cooper will do everything to get them out.

 

They never succeeded; currently Cooper Anderson and Quinn Fabray are District 9's only victors. All the other Tributes from 9 have either died long before Cooper and Quinn won their two consecutive years, or died in the Arena since. This year will be no different, Blaine knows, he is going to die. He tries not to look next to him, where a fifteen year old girl's eyes are as wide as Blaine's. It's then that Blaine realizes why Quinn hasn't greeted him the way she greeted her, the way she has greeted every single Tribute in the past twelve years. She has never sent anyone she knows into the Arena before, she has never really had to say goodbye.

 

After another short word from Isabelle Wright, she ushers Cooper away from Blaine, then turns him and the girl around. Tish, Blaine hears Cooper call her, and Isabelle ushers them both inside the Justice Building. Everything around him happens in a blur, he is ordered to stay in one room to wait for his family as Tish, Quinn and Cooper stay outside. He hears a door right next to his open and close, assumes that's where Tish is to wait for her family. He tries to drown out her sobs, tries to focus on what he can do. She is going to die, he knows that much. He's heard Cooper talk about tribute strategies often enough it the past twelve years. For as long as he can remember, his brother was a victor. Off to The Capitol with two new Tributes every year. He knows he and Quinn, who had won the year before Cooper, pick one they think they can save the most each year. He knows this year it will be him. Sure, Tish is more delicate and people will want her saved, but there isn't any way she will get out of that Arena alive.

 

Blaine feels sick thinking about it, about knowing he is going to spend the next few days with her, being a team. Sharing a train, sharing Nine’s quarters and sharing an Arena. It's not what he wants, he doesn't want this person's, or any person's, death on his conscious. He doesn't want to go into these ridiculous Games and he most certainly doesn't want to say goodbye to his parents.

 

His silence and thoughts are disturbed the moment the door opens and his mother and father walk through. Her eyes are red brimmed and her nose is dripping, she's breathing heavily and irregularly. Blaine can see she's trying to hide the sobs, but there really is no way to get around it; his mom is here assuming she'll never see him again.

 

“Where's Cooper?”

 

It's the first thing he's said since his name had been reaped. His voice is hoarse, distant and empty. Not real, none of it feels real.

 

“I need Cooper,” he says, “where's Cooper?”

 

“Blaine, my boy,” his father starts, “you'll see Cooper soon enough. On the train.”

 

It's weird, everything feels weird and off, his father feels weird and off. The hand his father drops on his shoulder is heavy, and he squeezes it a little too hard for it to be reassuringly. When Blaine looks his father in the eye, it's almost as if he sees guilt there, rather than sorrow. It isn't like his mother, who's clutching his hand softly and tugging on his bow tie to get it straight. He wants to hug her and hold her, take her with him to spend every last minute he has with her. But he can't, he has to do with the three minutes he's been given. Three minutes to say goodbye to his family, to tell them everything he should have said every single day of his life.

 

“I love you,” he tells his mother, “I love you so much, take care of Quinn and Cooper for me. They'll come out of this worse than they were before. They're losing their little brother.”

 

Because really, Quinn is as much a sister to him as Cooper is a brother. They'll do everything in their power to save Blaine, and he won't stop them. He knows he's probably going to die and he knows they'll feel even more accountable for his death that they have felt over every single child they have lost over the past years. He needs to know they'll be okay, taken care of.

 

“Promise me?” He presses, “promise me you'll take care of them when they come back more hurt than ever before.”

 

“I promise, son,” his father says, “I'll take care of all of them.”

 

Blaine nods curtly, trying to understand the distance in his father's eyes and posture. He can't, though, he can't make sense of anything happening right now. All he can focus on is saying goodbye, getting on the train, getting through the ceremonies and training and then trying not to die. He keeps repeating it like a list in his head. Goodbye, train, ceremonies, training, trying not to die.

He holds his mother tight and whispers sweet nothings in her ear, tries to comfort her and tell her he'll get out, Cooper knows how to, Cooper will help him. He feels in her posture, the way she clings to him, there's no way she believes him.

 

Eventually, maybe three seconds after his minutes with his family are over, a peacekeeper comes in and pries his mother off him. It's the first time she uses her voice in the too short three minutes they had, and it takes everything in Blaine not to break as she screams out his name. He feels it in his very core, the way the shrill tone of her voice rips through the echoing hall of the Justice Building, he is pretty sure that will be the last thing he'll hear before he dies. He'll see his father's distant eyes and hear his mother's shrill voice, his name on her lips.

 

Blinking back tears, he follows the Peacekeeper to where Cooper, Quinn, and Isabelle are waiting. Isabelle's hair is styled in a spin so high, Blaine wonders how she will even fit in the doors of the train. He chuckles slightly, then glances over to Cooper and realizes there's nothing to chuckle about. His brother seems old; his eyes are sunken and sad looking. Blaine wants to run into his arms and bury himself there, hide the way he used to when he was younger and Cooper was everything. He doesn't, though, he has no idea if there are cameras here and what Isabelle would think of him hiding in his brother's arms. He fights his every instinct to do so, and instead takes his place next to Quinn. She throws him a small smile, the first indication of recognition she gives since his name was called across the crowd, and he feels somewhat safer. He stands probably a bit too close to her to be called comfortable, but right now he needs to feel a body next to his own. Needs to know everything he feels is real; everything that is happening isn't a nightmare. At least not one he can wake up from.

 

Together they watch down the hall, where two peacekeepers drag away his fifth grade teacher, who apparently is Tish's mother. Her screams are almost as piercing as Blaine's mother's screams were. It takes everything inside him not to break. Tish walks towards them, wide eyed but standing tall. Blaine offers the girl an apologetic smile, but she passes him without acknowledging him and steps through the doors onto the platform of the Justice Building's train station.

 

Taken aback, Blaine looks up to Quinn and then Cooper, who both shrug and then follow her. Isabelle takes Blaine's hand and ushers him through the doors as well. The train awaits, and as he enters he can't believe this train is more luxurious than their house in District 9's Victor's Village. He knows they're privileged there, knows he is one of the only people in the District with a shower that has constant warm water. He knows he's one of the few kids in his class with his own bedroom, but that bedroom is nothing like what Isabelle shows him on the train.

 

He's surprised really, at how friendly Isabelle is. He's noticed before how her face isn't as painted as the rest of The Capitol people, and he's heard Cooper speak friendly of her, but he's never thought much about it until now.

 

“Here's your compartment,” she says after she made him wait outside Tish's compartment several minutes. Cooper and Quinn had disappeared, possibly to talk strategies, the moment the doors closed behind them. “It's a fifteen hour journey,” Isabelle explains, “it's not that long. We'll be there before you know it. You have some time to compose now. Dinner is served at five-thirty, we'll be expecting you in the dining area. It's quite easy to find, just walk past all the compartments to the front of the train and you'll get there. After that we'll watch the other District's reapings and then you can go to bed. We'll wake you up tomorrow about an hour before we arrive in The Capitol. Do you have any questions?”

 

“No,” Blaine answers, as he desperately wants to be left alone in this place. He doesn't have anything with him, not even his pyjamas. He rummages through the drawers and finds some comfortable clothes to wear. He doesn't shower, though, he knows he'll be scrubbed beyond clean tomorrow at arrival anyway. He plops himself on the bed and stares ahead, trying not to get lost in too many doom scenarios of how he'll die.

 

He hopes it will be quick, in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia would be good. Maybe just a blow to his head, dead in instant. That would be good. Or he could run away, come back to the Cornucopia to retrieve some stuff. Maybe he can survive this, maybe he can get out alive. Cooper and Quinn have been doing this for a long time, they know what to do. Two years ago they got their female Tribute to the last four. They must be able to get him out alive.

 

“You're getting out alive.”

 

It's the first thing Cooper says when he enters Blaine's compartment. At home, Blaine would have yelled about Cooper coming in without knocking, but here all he can do is let out a cry he had been holding back and let his brother crawl in bed with him. He's pretty sure Mentors aren't allowed to talk to their Tributes privately before arriving in The Capitol, but he doesn't care. He needs his brother now, not his Mentor.

 

“Isabelle allowed me in,” Cooper says, as if sensing Blaine's thoughts, “you won't see Quinn until tonight at dinner, but she said she wouldn't tell if I went in because you are my brother.”

 

“She's nice,” Blaine says and Cooper nods.

 

“She is. You're getting out of this Arena alive.”

 

“You know I won't.”

 

“You will.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because Quinn and I will do everything we can to assure that. All the other years we each had one tribute and mentored them individually. We're combining forces this year, you'll get out.”

 

“So you'll just leave Tish to die?” Blaine asks. He doesn't even know the girl, hasn't seen her out and about in town, but she's his former teacher's daughter and that has to count for something. Blaine hates that his own survival means 23 people's death, and he wants them to remain nameless and faceless as much as he can. For Tish that is too late. He's seen her be scared, he has heard her and her mother cry. Tonight he will have dinner with her and he will have to look her in the eye and know _they're not even going to try to help you._

 

“We'll make sure she is as safe as possible, we'll teach her how to fight. The odds aren't in our favor, Blaine, they aren't in anyone's favor. We'll do everything we can to get you out, and her second. If you die, and that's an _if,_ she will be our number one priority. We'll teach you both everything we know, but when we find sponsors, it will be for you first.”

 

Blaine guesses that's something he needs to accept, people around him will die. He will see dead bodies and he might even be responsible for some.

 

“How do you do it?” Blaine has to ask Cooper. He's never thought much about it before, the horrors his brother must be living with, but he does now. He can't even think about what it must feel like to actual live with the horrors. He's never seen his brother's Games in their entirety, or Quinn's for that matter. All he's ever seen was that last blow Cooper gave the last remaining tribute in his Games. To him it had been as natural as going to school and taking baths. My brother is Hunger Games victor Cooper Anderson, he goes to The Capitol to be a mentor once a year and he sleeps over at Quinn Fabray's house a lot.

 

It's almost like the list he has in his head of what he needs to do now. Goodbye and getting on the train already done, he keeps repeating  _ceremonies, training, interview, trying not to die._

 

“Just focus on getting out alive for now,” Cooper says and pulls Blaine close to him on the bed. The way he used to years ago after Blaine would've had a terrible nightmare, “we'll talk about the rest later.”

 

With a kiss to the top of his head, and a quiet whisper advising Blaine to get some rest before the circus starts, Cooper leaves Blaine to go find Quinn.

 

He doesn’t get much rest. Instead, he ponders the numerous and gruesome deaths he might suffer or cause. He isn’t freed of his terrible thoughts until a voice over announces dinner will be served in fifteen minutes. He knows he can't skip it, and so he finds the dinner compartment and sits down in the seat next to Cooper, across from Quinn.

 

She smiles politely at him, nothing like the smile she usually throws his way when they see each other. She continues to ignore him throughout the polite dinner chatter and even before dessert is served, she excuses herself to her compartment.

 

“I think this year's tributes are making her a bit emotional,” Isabelle says as an explanation. Blaine half expects her to get up and go after Quinn to retrieve her, but she doesn't. 

 

“You mean just one tribute,” Tish breaks the pregnant silence that follows Isabelle's statement, to which Isabelle coughs out her food and Blaine and Cooper both stop their fork with chocolate soufflé as it is raised halfway towards their mouth.

 

“We all know you and Quinn are practically family, and Blaine is your actual brother. I know you guys aren't going to do a thing to help me. So tell me how to help him and we'll get him out.”

 

“No,” Cooper says strictly as his eyes fall on Isabelle. Her purple lips are strained on her face, and Blaine sees she's older than she lets on. Maybe there's a little more make up on there than he suspected at first. “We will teach you all we know, we will do everything we can, for both of you equally. When it is about life or death, there is no preferential treatment. I will try to save you, Tish, please don't think otherwise.”

 

Blaine knows it's probably because Isabelle can't know about their plan, because The Capitol obliges them to treat all their tributes equally, still it gives him mixed feelings over the subject. Pretty much everything that is happening right now is giving him mixed feelings. He tries to say goodbye to his life, tries to accept he is going to die and at the same time is thinking of everything he can do to survive this hell.

 

“If you'll please excuse me,” he says before standing up and leaving the table, but his luck doesn't equal Quinn's; Isabelle orders him to stay. “We'll be watching the other District's reaping in a few,” she says. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.

 

Sure enough, half an hour later a projection of the reapings shines from a small device that one of the waiters places on the table. Blaine doesn't register much about the tributes. He sees that it's two fifteen year olds' in Three and he hears “I volunteer” about six times, twice in every career driven District. Mostly he gets nauseous with every new face that shines down upon him.  _You're going to die because I want to live,_ is all he thinks. Immediately after the last two tributes disappear into their District's Justice Building, Blaine stands up and excuses himself. Isabelle motions to have him stay, she probably wants to discuss the other tributes, but he can't. So he leaves, practically runs to his compartment and curls up on the bed.

 

At some point in the night, long after he has given up on trying to sleep, he hears his door open and close. He half expects Cooper to crawl in bed with him, but welcomes it even more when it is Quinn's scent that greets him when she drops down on the bed. She pulls him close, the way she used to when he was eight years old and their mom was out of town with Cooper and his father was locked in his study. She kisses the top of his head and hums the old familiar lullaby, one that her mom taught her and her grandmother taught her mom.

 

“I'm so sorry, Blaine,” she once she's finished with the song. She doesn't leave, though, she only pulls him closer and starts humming the song again. It takes about four or five runs through the entire lullaby, before Blaine is finally back to his worry free eight year old self enough to let himself fall asleep.

 

Blaine is roused by a gentle hand the next morning. Isabelle stands over him with a bright smile, her lips and eyelashes a shining gold this morning. Her hair, again, is styled in a high mess, golden jewelry woven into it. She is obviously ready to present her tributes to the people of The Capitol.

 

The morning goes by in a rush, he and Tish get served breakfast in their compartments and even before he can completely finish it, Isabelle's voice rings through the train announcing they'll arrive at the station in fifteen minutes.  
  


He walks towards the small window next to the bed, where he can just see the enormous buildings starting to grace the skyline. Right across a large field, he can see where The Capitol starts. And, he realizes, these huge buildings that show no sign of poverty the way he knows the smallest cottages in District 9 do. Still, these are supposed to be the outskirts of The Capitol, the cheapest apartments one could possibly afford in the luxurious place that is The Capitol. It isn't fair, he thinks, that the cheapest places in The Capitol are most likely still bigger and better equipped than the most expensive houses in his District.

 

The closer they get to the center of it, the more life he sees on the side of the train tracks. People in bright colored clothes, with hair higher than their neighbor's. He waves at them as they cheer at him, it seems only natural to do so, and only when the train starts to slow significantly to roll into the station, he notices Cooper behind him.

 

“That was good,” Cooper chuckles, “make people like you. They will like you already, but we need as many sponsors as we can get. We're going to play the brother card, but not yet. We don't want to be too obvious, only when Caesar Flickerman asks about it in your interview we'll play the brother card. For now, be your charming self.”

 

Blaine wants to ask what Cooper means, why he hadn't talked about this yesterday, but the train comes to a sudden stop and Isabelle announces through the voice over that they have arrived at The Capitol's station. They are to gather at the door the entered the train through.

 

Cooper walks with him towards it, his hand on Blaine's back encouragingly along the way. He keeps talking, about how he'll get prepped now and his prep team will have instructions from his stylist. That he'll be presented to President Snow and The Capitol after prep this afternoon, and that he won't see his quarters in which they'll be staying for the four days of training, until everything from today is over.

 

He gets hauled into preparation immediately after he disembarks the train, three people around him work on his body in ways he didn't even know it existed. Every single hair on his body is being trimmed, including his pubic hair and his armpits.

 

A girl named Sugar tells him to turn around and even his butt is being waxed. Blaine wishes he had something to say about it, but he doesn't and so he lets himself be trimmed and scrubbed and worked without complaint. Only when they rub a stinging lotion on his face he grunts a little, but it's over soon enough and according to Sugar it means he doesn't have to shave for half a year. Somehow he thinks it won't be a good idea to tell her he'll most likely be dead before then anyway.

 

It takes the prep team about an hour and a half until they look at his face, another closer look at his eyebrows, than make him twirl around naked several times, before they all nod approvingly and Sugar, obviously the leader of this little group of freaks, tells the other two to go get  _him._

 

_Him,_ the stylist, the person who's supposed to make Blaine stand out in the crowd of 24 tributes, the person who is supposed to help Blaine get sponsors. For now, honestly, all he wants is to get dressed. He's in a small, white gown that covers his front but not his back. He's cold, he's scared and he's tired. He needs today to be over and the best way for today to be over is for it to move forward already. So when the door opens and his prep team walks in with a man in tow, he sighs in relief. 

 

The man tells Sugar and the others, whose names he has lost, to get out and before Blaine can see his face, he turns toward a closet in the corner of the room. He types in a combination and then, when his team has left the room, turns towards Blaine.

 

The man has a pale skin, but it looks so natural that Blaine can't tell if it's beauty modification, as is trendy in the Capitol, or just the man's natural skin. What is not natural is the silver streaks in the man's hair, amongst the chestnut brown that seems to be his own. Even the man's eyes are grayish silver, though that might have to do with the silver lining along the lid and bottom of it. The eyeliner is thick both above and under his eye, and on the right side they cross into musical clefs that form a heart together.

 

For some reason, the weird tattoo at the side of the man's eye sets Blaine's mind slightly at ease. Maybe it's because what this man has decided to brand into his skin forever, is something Blaine can relate to. If they're both passionate about music, maybe he can strike up some kind of friendship with this man and really have him try his hardest to make an impression on the sponsors. He needs to find his luck, his  _odds,_ anywhere he can right now.

 

“Hello Blaine,” the man says with a soft, gentle voice and it makes Blaine want to find the first piano he can get his hands on, just to hear that clear tone sing a comforting lullaby. “My name is Kurt, and I am here to help you make an impression.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a finished work, with updates every two days. Hope you enjoy it and would love to hear from you either here or on my tumblr, beatlebun.tumblr.com :).


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a finished fic, it will update every other day through to Jan 15.

Kurt dresses Blaine in a simple jumpsuit, the structure of it looks like bread crust, but it feels comfortable and easy. Even if it's just for the opening ceremony, Blaine decides to like his stylist.

Kurt is currently working on his hair, trying to style it down with a ton of hair gel. Except it isn't like the stuff he uses in the District. He doesn't use much in the District, never feels comfortable walking around with his curls plastered to his head. To him it feels like showing the people he has money to spare, money for hair products. People watch him when he does.

 

Of course he does occasionally, when they have dinner with the mayor, when they visit the local theater for a performance or when he himself performs there. It's occasional, but it happens. When he tries to control his curls at home it takes him hours, two washings and at least half a pot of hair gel. Kurt just uses a special brush and some spray and his curls do exactly that what Kurt wishes of them. He wonders if it's Kurt who has taught Cooper to style his hair all wavy and perfect.

“Were you Cooper's stylist, too?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence they had been having so far. It's strange, really, the way Kurt's presence sets him at ease in a way neither Cooper nor Quinn have managed thus far into the trip.

“How old do you think I am?” Kurt chuckles, “I was a mere child when your brother won the games. I remember, though, he was my very first crush.”

Blaine coughs. He knows Cooper is wanted, knows The Capitol wants Cooper to do things, want him to spend time with people for money that Snow strikes up. He knows people like Kurt want his brother, that he is desired.

“You like my brother?”

“I did, when I was ten.”

It's been twelve years since Cooper won the games at sixteen, Kurt was ten. So that means he's twenty two now, not that much older than Blaine himself.

“You're young to be a stylist, then,” Blaine says and Kurt shrugs.

“I guess I'm talented. They don't pick people lightly for this, you know, there is a whole screening. My hands bled for five days after I went through it. So I expect you to win this thing for me, I'm not doing this to lose the person they make me dress.”

“I'll try,” Blaine is the one to shrug this time. Even though Kurt is nice and gentle and it looks like he really wants Blaine to win, he still is from The Capitol and considers five days of bleeding hands as terrible as trying to survive in an arena with 23 other under aged children. Cooper had warned him for that, that people in The Capitol don't understand real struggle. They don't see their friends struggle to feed themselves every day, they don't watch their teacher being thrown into custody because she teaches about a Panem before Panem existed. To them, the greatest fiasco they've ever experienced are broken nails and bleeding knuckles.

Kurt smiles at him gently, almost warm, and then ushers him out towards the carriages. The horses in front of them are majestic to say the least. Kurt watches Blaine watch the horses and takes his hand to lead him to the back, where they wait for Tish and her stylist. He looks around, trying to find Cooper and Quinn but he can't.

“Smile and wave at the crowd,” Kurt tells him as he squeezes his hand lightly, “make them fall in love with you. I know you can, it's in your blood. It's how your brother did it.”

Right, brother, he has a reputation to live up to on top of everything else. His brother, who's not even here at the moment. He climbs the chariot with Kurt's help, and tries to avoid looking at all the other Tributes. Which he can't. They all look amazingly different from what he had seen on the broadcast of the reapings. He knows they've all been through similar preparation rituals as he did, the girls probably even more. None of them look like District kids anymore, but no amount of make up, scrubbing, clothing and hairspray can hide the fear in their eyes. It's amazing, really, how they can all have different skin tones, different costumes and features and yet all look alike because their eyes all shine bright with the same emotion.

When Tish and her stylist, Tina, walk towards them, Blaine's mouth drops open. Gone is the small girl that got on a train with him, and in her place is a fierce young woman, dressed in a tight jump suite similar to the one Blaine is wearing. Her posture is straight, straighter than it was and she walks with her head held high. Blaine sees it immediately, this girl didn't get on a train to surrender. She will fight to stay alive. Blaine isn't sure what brings it on, maybe some sort of primal instinct, but immediately he stands up straighter himself. If she will fight, he will fight. He doesn't care how or why, she and he are from the same District and he knows one of them need to survive. District 9 deserves as much.

“Let's do this,” she says with a strong voice and Blaine helps her up on the chariot.

“Let's do this,” he agrees. One last look at Kurt and Tina, a forced smile and then the horses start pulling the carriage. He holds on tight as they race down the wide open space with the audience on either side. Blaine barely registers what happens, focuses on staying atop the carriage and smiling. The list of focus in his head adjusted now Kurt and his prep team have informed him a little more on what will happen.

Opening ceremonies, training, interviews, rating, trying not to die.

The noise around him is loud, he keeps his smile bright and tries to soak up Tish's fighting energy to match it. He might even succeed, because when he sees their bright faces light up the screens, the cheers in the crowd seem louder than ever. Of course, it can be his imagination, but it still gives him hope and so he courageously let's loose one hand and waves at the crowd. In response, the cheers get louder and he sees people get to their feet.

"They love us,” Tish whispers and Blaine immediately knows she's right. Something in the atmosphere around them changes. The crowd goes wild as they both dare to wave more excitedly. Blaine lets himself be influenced by the excitement around him and almost misses when the chariot reaches it's destination, the horses coming to a sudden stop. After almost falling off, he quickly regains his composure and watches President Snow getting up on his step, his trademark rose placed neatly in the lapel of his jacket.  
He holds his speech, probably something inspiring and creepy. Blaine doesn't hear a single thing he says, keeps his eyes focuses on the rose as to not get distracted, and starts repeating the list in his head again. It's strange, how his thoughts are all over the place. How one moment he can wave and smile at the crowd and think he has a chance of winning, and look at the career tributes from District 1, 2 and 4 the next and feel his death upon him.

“I present to you, the tributes of the 73rd Annual Hunger Games!”

After Snow has concluded his speech, the crowd around them erupts in applause and cheer, the horses pull the carriages forwards again and Blaine has to hold on tight to make sure he won't fall off. The horses speed them back towards where they came from, they smile at the crowd as they rush back and before he knows it, Blaine and Tish are back in the hangar, where now Cooper and Quinn stand waiting next to Isabelle, Tina and Kurt.

“You guys did great!” Isabelle says excitedly, before extending a hand to help Tish down from the carriage. Kurt does the same for Blaine, and he takes the hand gratefully. When he steps down he almost trips, not used to the heel on his boot. He lands half in Kurt's arms, though the pointy pads around Kurt's silver shoulders make it impossible for him to catch Blaine properly.

After he's scrambled up from the awkward angle he ended up in, he follows Isabelle towards a set of elevators down the hall from the hangar. Tish walks steadily besides Quinn, who is complimenting the girl on her chariot ride. She talks animatedly about how important it is to gather sponsor and to come across as likable. Maybe, Blaine thinks, they'll really do everything they can for her as well.

His gaze leaves Tish and Quinn and lands on Kurt’s back. He walks gracefully, even in the enormous high heels he is wearing. It’s not until now that Blaine realizes Kurt must very much be into silver. His pants, tights, whatever they are, are silver and hug his legs tightly. They blend into the shoes and Blaine wonders how Kurt even manages to get into the whole thing in the morning.

His shirt, or dress, Blaine isn't sure what it is, sticks out in sharp points at his shoulders, hugs his torso tight and spreads out into a wide hoop just below his butt. Blaine is mesmerized by his outfit, something he couldn't really say about Isabelle's outrageous dress. Blaine is also very much a teenage boy, and despite going into the Arena and most likely dying before the month is over, he can see Kurt's body is something to appreciate. He sees it in Tina, too, her suit skin tight and a deep purple that brings out the color of her natural skin perfectly. He wonders if it's a stylist thing, knowing how to dress themselves, but he doesn't dare ask. So he watches, watches Kurt walk in front of him with the long, lean legs on the high sequined heels. His body is fuller than most bodies Blaine has seen in his life, and yet gorgeously lean, probably to do with eating healthy and on a regular base, but there is something else about him that fascinates Blaine.

“Are you guys staying here?” Isabelle asks them sweetly, but with a tone to her voice that sounds a bit on the fence about it.

“We thought we would,” Tina says, “we thought we would get to know them before we start the designs for the interviews.

“It's just one dress, you can go home.”

“Our apartment is on the other side of The Capitol,” Tina shrugs, “we have our materials in the atelier here, we have our subjects here and Crane said there are enough bedrooms in District 9's quarters for us to spend some quality time with them.”

Blaine can see in everything about Isabelle's body language that she isn't used to be talked back to, but Tina stands strong and the tone she used isn't one Blaine would argue with either. Subjects, though, she called him and Tish subjects. It's a weird thing to get upset about, but it's so impersonal it makes Blaine's skin itch.

He looks at Isabelle again, at her overtly styled hair, her bright green dress, bright blue tights and the bright green shoes on her feet. He observes the gemstones plastered all over the skin of her arms, their colors matching the colors of her dress at tights. The gemstones in her hair equally as blue and green as the rest of her. Her skin is pale, paler than Kurt's and obviously powdered beyond recognition. He wonders if she does it all herself, if every Capitol person who looks as unnatural as Isabelle do their own hair and make-up every morning, and how long it takes them to look as weird and fake as they do.

Of course, in The Capitol it is fashion, but as a District person he cannot imagine ever worrying about his looks the way people from The Capitol do. Even if he has money, more than he can use, he sees his friends struggle to even dress themselves with long sleeved shirts in winter and here people throw around silver and gold as if it costs nothing. He wonders if that's really how it is to Capitol people, if they don't care about the people in the Districts at all, if they really so that superficial or maybe just uneducated.

He wonders if they're mere subjects, the way Tina said they were, or if that's just a word stylist of The Capitol use for all their clients. Do they even have clients, or are they busy year round designing for the Games?

Blaine had been so busy thinking about Kurt and Tina and their work, he hadn't even noticed they got on an elevator until Isabelle announced this was their floor. Floor number nine, entirely theirs. Isabelle instructs Cooper to show Blaine his suite, and Quinn to show Tish her suite. She waves to some bedrooms on the far end of the hall for Kurt and Tina and tells them to be ready for dinner in two hours. Blaine's stomach grumbles immediately at the mention of dinner, realizing he hadn't had lunch during his excessive preparation ritual.

He and Cooper follow Kurt and Tina down the hall and Cooper shows him his suite. It's a gorgeous open space, a large bathtub next to a double sink in the corner. The bed is so big, he's sure there are families of five back home who share a smaller space. It all looks comfortable, it all looks too much. It mostly looks like you're going to die in a few days, we're trying to make it up to you with a few last days of extraordinary luxury.

“We're still going to save you, Blainey,” Cooper starts as Blaine helps himself out of the bread crust looking jumpsuit. The nickname, Blainey, it sounds so wrong all of a sudden. So childish. Blaine doesn't feel childish anymore, or young. He feels the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

“We'll get you sponsors, we'll get you everything you need. We're getting you out of there, I promise.”

“Cooper..”

“I'll charm my way into some sponsor's hearts, you put on your bright smile and maybe I'll make Caesar ask you to sing a song. The people would love your voice, Blainey. I'm just thinking aloud here but...”

"Cooper!”

“We can absolutely make people love you. The sponsors will get you food and water and medicine if you need it. That's what important. You're going to hide, you're going to run away from the Cornucopia and we'll provide for you and then we'll...”

“COOPER!”

It takes Blaine every ounce of strength in his voice to make his brother stop talking. Cooper focuses on Blaine, then follows his gaze to the door where Kurt is standing wide eyed. He'd stood there from the moment Cooper started talking, and the shock on Cooper's face confirms Blaine's fear that it wasn't a good idea for a Capitol resident to hear his plans. Kurt takes a deep breath, then looks at them both and steps inside. He pushes a button next to the door, which closes it and then walks over to the bed.

“Can I sit?” Blaine answers with a curt nod, quickly throws on a comfortable pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt from the closet in his room, then wonders why he even did that. It's not like either Cooper or Kurt haven't seen him naked before. Hell, Kurt even took all his measurements including the length of his penis this morning, needing to know everything for the suit he'll be designing for his interview. Still, he feels more comfortable completely dressed before he joins Cooper and Kurt on the bed.

“I get it,” Kurt starts once Blaine is seated cross-legged with his head against the headboard. He's not comfortable by far, fearing what Kurt will say. He'll probably sell them out and Blaine will be dead before the count down ends. He's seen it before, Tributes 'tripping' before the sixty seconds are up and exploding on the spot. Cooper has told him those are usually corrupt Tributes. In a sense it might be a good way to die. He doesn't have to fight in the Arena, wouldn't have to see anyone die or be responsible for deaths. He wouldn't die a slow death by infection. Just one big blow and everything would be over. Maybe that's why they do it, corrupt themselves and make The Capitol know so it'll be over before it even starts.

But then he remembers what usually happens next. Tish might be standing next to him, the explosion on his platform will cause a loud noise and it will startle the people next to him. Usually either the force of the explosion or the bang it brings makes for the people right next to the exploding Tribute to stumble and fall as well, and it'll be over for them just as soon. He remembers one year where this happened and five tributes in a row had fallen off their platform, starting the bloodbath at the Cornucopia with nineteen instead of twenty four Tributes. He doesn't want that to happen, if he's going to die he wants Tish to live. District 9 deserves a win, Quinn and Cooper deserve to finally take home a victor. Maybe even have a year off next year for Quinn, if Tish wins she can mentor next year's female Tribute. Or a year off for Cooper, if Blaine wins he can come back next year and be a mentor. They deserve this, and either he or Tish will win.

“Please don't sell us out.”

“I'm going to help you.”

They say it simultaneously, and both Blaine and Cooper's mouths fall open as they register what Kurt had just said.

“You mean -”

“I'll help you. I can't get sponsors for you, I'm not allowed to mingle in the Sponsor crowd because I might be biased – which I am, but I can tell you who are my friends. I can tell you who has enough money to help you, who will want Kurt's designs to be seen back on the aftermath interviews, who want me to have a job during the Victory Tour.”

“So you're doing it for yourself, so you have work?”

“Maybe,” Kurt answers honesty, “but mostly I'm doing it because I have a family and you guys are the only family within the mmentors and tributes. It hurts me to think about losing my father. I almost lost him not too long ago, and when I look at you guys I see the same kind of love. That's why I'm doing it.” 

“We only just met,” Blaine says, still not convinced, but Cooper elbows him in the ribs and gestures for Kurt to continue.

"I have money, my father has a high job and I get half of his money so that's not why I'm doing this. But I am doing it because of him. I lost my mother as a little child and I almost lost him quite recently. I don't like to see families ripped apart and I don't want my next design after the games to be the one you will be buried in. I don't want to design for dead bodies, I don't want to design for dead brothers. I want you to win because you're a nice person and you deserve it.”

“We all have families. Tish left her parents and two little brothers home. Why should she die and not me?”

“No one should die.”

The words hit Blaine like a train. He always assumed every single Capitol person sees the Games as something exciting, as something entertaining. He feels tears well up in his eyes and forces himself to hold them back. It's the first since his name was reaped that he feels the real urge to cry, but he can't. Not in front of Kurt and Cooper, not if it's true what Kurt says and he wants to fight for Blaine. Break the rules for him. He still feels like he needs to be cautious, if he says yes and Kurt turns out to operate on Capitols orders, trying to unmask any corrupt tributes, he is screwed for good.

Can I think about it?”

Almost the same time he hears a deafening scream come from the other side of their quarters and Cooper shoots up immediately.

“Quinn!” he exclaims, “I have to go. Quinn! I'm coming!”

Both Kurt and Blaine watch Cooper run towards the door, watch him almost run into it before finding the button and then rush to the other side where he'll find Quinn. Kurt looks at Blaine in question, who simply shrugs.

“They have a weird relationship,” Blaine says, “they're very close.”

“Are they in love?”

“I'm not sure,” Blaine answers, “he sleeps at her place almost every night. Says it helps with the nightmares. I guess it's because they've had similar experiences, both winning the Games and all.”

“Yeah...” Kurt mumbles absentmindedly, his gaze still on the door Cooper had disappeared through, “I had nightmares when my mother died.”

Blaine wants to scream at Kurt, yell and say it isn't the same. He doesn't, though, because he can feel Kurt's sincere, Kurt's trying to understand and it's a hell lot more than Cooper has ever given any Capitol acquaintance credit for.

“To answer your question,” Kurt says after he comes back to himself, “of course you can think about it. Tina and I will be here when you come back from training tomorrow. I'll leave you to get some rest before dinner, tell me tomorrow or the day after that. Take your time.”

He gets up and walks towards the door. It's only then that Blaine sees he took off the ridiculous boots and is now gracing the carpet with his bare feet. It feels close to domestic, watching this fashion icon so unguarded and casual.

“Do you sing?” The words are out before he can even try to stop himself from asking them.

“I... – what?”

“Do you sing? Your eye, it's got to do with music, right? I've never learned to read sheet music, but I know those signs. Or clefs. Or what do you call them?”

"Clefs, yes. But no, I don't sing. I play the piano and my mother used to sing to me when she was little. My father tells me I stopped singing the day her heart stopped beating.”

“That's really sad.”

“And you, do you sing?”

"Yes,” Blaine says and feels the smile on his face returning, as it always does when he gets to talk about performing, “I love to sing. It's my favorite thing to do. We have this small theater in District 9 and I sometimes get to perform there. I love to make people forget about their struggles for a while.”

“I love seeing shows and forgetting about life for a while,” Kurt says, “when I hear a really great singer, or see an amazing fashion show, I can forget for two or three hours that I still have to sew a dress together, that's the best thing to ever happen.”

It's there again, that difference between The Capitol and the Districts, but Blaine doesn't mention it. Doesn't mention that still needing to sew a dress is a whole other struggle than wondering if my children will survive the week. Kurt can't know, he's probably never even been in the Districts. He grew up here, this is what he knows and if sewing a dress together is a struggle for him, then it is.

“I bet you have a beautiful voice,” Blaine tells Kurt, “but tell me, what do you play?”

“On the piano? I wish I could show you. I love just playing with the keys and finding my own melody. What about you, what do you sing?”

“I sing a lot, songs from our Districts. Songs Quinn taught me. She's taught me a lot of songs from her family. They have been passed on generation after generation. I have this one favorite, I'm not sure what it's called. I should ask her later.”

There's a soft smile that appears on Kurt's lips. “You guys must be close,” he whispers as he sits back down on the bed. He curls his legs up, they mostly disappear under the large hoop of his upper garment, “if she's willing to let you in on family secrets like that.”

“We are her family,” Blaine explains, “she won a year before Cooper did. She was fifteen when she won, he was sixteen. They're only two weeks apart. Her parents died not long after she won. First her father had an accident in the factory and later her mother committed suicide. She lived in Victor's Village alone, until we joined her after Cooper's Games. Our parents sort of adopted her. She's been a sister ever since.”

“She lost both her parents?”

Kurt looks paler than before, Blaine thinks he must be missing his own mother in this moment. With Kurt sitting closer to him than before he can see the eyes aren't as gray as they looked this morning, they're green and blue, still a little gray and he even has some tints of District 9's trademark hazel. It's almost as if Blaine can find the entire spectrum of colors inside those two irises staring off into a distance farther than the wall he's facing.

“She did.”

“I had a taste of how that feels,” Kurt says softly, “I think I understand why she screams the way she does.”

“Sing for me?” Kurt asks after he adjusts his gaze from far beyond the wall back to Blaine. “Please?” He says, his eyes brimming with tears. The silver lines along his eyes sparkle through them, his face is real and Blaine fights the urge to take Kurt's hand to comfort him. He shouldn't be the comforting one. He's here to enter the Arena, he's here to fight to the death, he shouldn't feel sorry for the person waxing his body and preparing him for the fight by making him likable for Sponsors.

“What would you want me to sing?” He asks, because the connection from his logical thinking brain to his mouth seems to be lost, and in the place is a connection between himself and this silver man, apparently stronger than any sense of should and logic his brain can comprehend at the moment.

“Can you sing me the song Quinn taught you?”

“I'd rather not,” Blaine says. “I've never sung it out loud before, I'm not even sure if Quinn wants me to. Besides, it's our lullaby, something Quinn used to sing to me when I was just a little boy and had nightmares.”

"Something from your District then?” Kurt asks, not questioning Blaine's rejection. Blaine digs deep in his mind, trying to find the perfect song for the occasion, and when he finds it he starts singing softly. Kurt's eyes fill with tears as Blaine's voice fills up the room. The tiles in the corner at the tub and sink offer an amazing acoustic to the room, and Blaine lets his mind fill with thoughts of home.

He sees his bedroom, he left it untidy yesterday morning and he feels guilty about it. His mother is probably cleaning it up right now, wanting for him to return to a neat place. He thinks of the fireplace in the living room, the couch on which his parents will curl up tonight to watch the rerun of the opening ceremonies. He thinks of Quinn's house and all the other empty houses in Victor's Village. He wonders if he'll get assigned his own, should he win. If he could offer it to Tish's family and remain with his own if he lived. He wonders if Tish's family would take it, or if they would hate him and blame him for killing their daughter 

It's not until he feels a soft thumb stroking away a tear on his cheek that he notices they are falling. Tears stream down his face, he stops singing and just cries. He lets Kurt, a man he met not more than ten hours ago, gather him in his arms and he lets his tears fall freely. He keeps thinking about his mother. He sees her face, the fear he will always remember. He was a tiny six year old boy when his brother was sent off into the Arena to fight and he had to watch every single second of it. He remembers watching his mother's face more than the screen. Seeking reassurance. He remembers asking her when is Cooper coming back, mommy? When is Coops going to play with me again?

They lived in a tiny hut near the factory his dad worked at back then, they all four shared a bed and it had been cold without Cooper in it. I'm not sure Blaine. His mom had been sharp, maybe even mean, but now he's older he understands she was scared. He's scared.

“I'm scared,” he cries into Kurt's pointy shoulder pad. “I don't want to die.”

“Of course not,” Kurt whispers, “you won't.”

He stays in Kurt's arms for a long time, longer than should possible be comfortable, but he can't seem to stop crying. Kurt fumbles on the bed and holds him close as he gets into a more comfortable position against the headboard. Kurt's thumb is strong as it strokes against his back, and he smells sweet. He adjusts his position so he gets even closer and cries into Kurt's neck rather than the weird pointy shoulder he still doesn't quite understand. He lets his walls down, decides to trust Kurt wholly from this point on out. It would be too late to back out now. He'll still take the few days, but he knows he won't refuse the help. If Kurt's lying, he'll die anyway. If Kurt's sincere, he needs to take any chance he can get to survive this Arena.

He cries until his tears stop flowing, and he stays in Kurt's arms even after. Kurt's thumb remains strong and where Blaine's ear is resting against his neck, he can vaguely hear Kurt's pulse there. It's a calming thing Blaine doesn't want to give up.

Eventually, though, he has to. Isabelle's voice is shrill down the hall as she tells them it's almost time for supper. Kurt shoots up, sending Blaine into a sitting position with him.

“Your eyes are red from crying,” he says, “pour cold water on them, it helps. I don't have enough time to fix it completely, I'm sorry. I hope you can cover it up."

“I don't care if they see my flaws,” Blaine bites.

“It's not a flaw,” Kurt whispers as he cups Blaine's face with his hand, “I just don't want Tish, Tina or Isabelle to see you weak. They'll think you aren't worth fighting for and you are.”

“Oh.”

“So, cold water and I'll see you at the dinner table.”

Kurt is out before Blaine finds word to respond, so he takes Kurt's advice and splashes some ice cold water on his face. He rubs his eyes as best as he can, eventually settles for looking sleepy rather than cried out, then sets himself at the dinner table.

Tina and Isabelle are still dressed in their expressive, wide and bright colored Capitol fashion, but when Kurt enters he has replaced his hoop shirt for a more casual one. Though still silver and sequined, it's loose fitted and has a deep v-neck. Blaine tries not to stare, but it's hard to keep his eyes from the flawless skin it shows.

Blaine isn't sure how body modification works, and when he sees the powder white faces on his television he's always wondered if the paleness of those people's faces traces down onto their bodies, but now with this low shirt Kurt is wearing he can at least tell Kurt hasn't altered his skin in the slightest. Along his chest are a few tiny freckles and dark dots of which Blaine assumes are of his chest hair growing back. He's staring, he knows he's staring but he can't tear his eyes away from the chest on which he had just minutes ago been crying.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the elbow coming, but it isn't until it pokes him harshly in the ribs that he realizes it was Cooper's and Cooper saw him staring. Kurt turns around to call one of the servants to him and God, without the enormous hoop covering most of his thighs, legs and ass, the silver legging is by far the hottest thing Blaine has ever seen on a guy. Cooper elbows him in the ribs again, and Blaine snaps his mouth shut.

“Could you bring over some ice cold water?” Kurt asks the girl behind him kindly, after which Isabelle tells her to go ahead and put the dinner out as well. The girl does as she is told in silence, nods only in answer when asked a question and fulfills The Capitol resident's every wishes. Blaine doesn't want to ask her or her colleague for anything, doesn't feel comfortable and he notices neither Cooper nor Quinn do it either.

Tish asks the boy, who to Blaine looks no older than twenty, for a refill on her wine glass and he obliges. There's an awkward tension in the room from that moment on, though Blaine only feels it on either side of him, where Cooper and Quinn are sitting.

Blaine had learned a long time ago from Cooper, he's seen a hundred Avoxes like these two people in his lifetime. Ever since his brother became a Victor of The Hunger Games he has had dinners with new Victors during the Victory Tour. There had always been Avoxes waiting on them, serving them their food and making sure their glasses were never empty. Blaine had learned a long time ago that being served by an Avox was not something he wanted to participate in.

“Well they're quite rude,” Tish says as the boy stands back in his corner where he waits until someone calls on him, “they could at least say yes or tell me to enjoy my meal.”

“They're Avoxes, honey, they don't speak.”

“Well, that's just plain weird. Back home if I didn't say please and thank you to my father's costumers he'd smack me.”

“They don't have a tongue.”

Quinn's voice is sharp, so sharp it makes the rest of them gasp and look at her in horror. Blaine hadn't noticed until now how pale she looks. She looks tired, skinnier than before and sad. She doesn't look at Blaine as she speaks, though she looks around the group.

“They're slaves of The Capitol. They did something wrong once, The Capitol captured them and took out their tongues so they couldn't speak anymore and now makes them work for us. They like to remind us not to step a toe out of line.”

“Don't worry about yourself darling,” Isabelle tries to comfort the shocked looking Tish, “if you win the Games, they'd never do that to you. You'd be of too much value for us to maim you like that.”

“Because that's so much of a better fate,” Quinn bites back at Isabelle, after which the rest of the meal is eaten in awkward silence. Blaine manages to to sneak glances at Kurt, who keeps looking down at his dinner, though he doesn't eat much. Blaine keeps eating, both to drown out the stifling silence and because he hasn't eaten since breakfast. The food is absolutely delicious.

Being a victor's brother, Blaine has never known much hunger. At least not since he can remember. He sometimes sees the images of himself from before Cooper had won, before they had been assigned the house in Victor's Village. He was skinny, he was pale and his eyes were sunken. He can't remember much of it, because as soon as Cooper had come back from the game they had moved to Victor's Village, Cooper had picked the house right next to Quinn's and suddenly they'd had money. Blaine still sees the guilt in his mother's eyes when she walks to the bakery to get fresh bread and sees others scrambling up the change they have to buy two tiny rolls for an entire family of six.

He knows fresh bread, he knows a well cooked dinner, but nothing really compares to the food he's had since he got on the train to The Capitol. So, he devours it as the awkward silence around him continues. He sees Tish do the same, though she does it with wide eyes and a lack of dignity that Blaine still manages to hold. Tish is one of the children who have to share bread rolls, he thinks, she is one of the poor people. He hasn't spoken much to her yet, but he thinks he wants to change that. Tomorrow, in training, he'll be nice to her.

Sleep that night comes surprisingly easily. He'd expected to have the dinner conversation creep into his dreams, the games played out before him. He'd expected to see himself or Tish die in his dreams, to see himself murder people, but none of that happens.

Instead, he dreams of silver streaks in chestnut hair, he dreams of silver-green eyes with a tattoo next to them, and a kind smile. As his dream self pillows his head on Kurt's chest, he even dreams of his smell. When he seats himself at the breakfast table the next day, Kurt and Cooper are already there. He hears the shower in Tish's room run, and Kurt informs him that neither Isabelle nor Tina will be up before noon today. Isabelle had asked Kurt to escort Tish and Blaine to the training center.

They chit-chat lightly, don't even come close to touching the subject of Kurt's offer to help. They don't talk about the clash between Quinn and Isabelle. Cooper and Blaine tell Kurt about life in Victor's Village, Kurt tells them about his father. Blaine sees Kurt's eyes light up when he does, the man obviously loves his father very much and it gives Blaine an odd sense of safety and familiarity. When Kurt talks so fondly about his father, it sounds like the way Blaine talks to strangers about Cooper.

Tish arrives at the breakfast table not much later. She looks well rested and she eats her breakfast with a little more reserve than she was able to show the night before. She's probably less hungry than she has even been in her life, fully satisfied for the first time.

Kurt and Cooper both escort them to the training center. The elevator ride takes longer than Blaine remembers, and Cooper keeps talking to them. He tells them to practice the most basic skills first. Make sure you can start a fire, make sure you can hide the fire as soon as your food is cooked. Make sure you know how to cleanse water. Learn to recognize edible plants. Learn to dodge rather than to fight, learn to hide.

Kurt leads them to a dressing room in the basement of the tall building. He hands them their track suits and after which they have to say goodbye.

“Don't show them your strengths,” Kurt says before he pushes them into the big open space that is the training center. Looking around, most of the other Tributes have already arrived. Just Eleven and Twelve arrive a little later. The girl from Twelve is a young girl, thirteen and the smallest girl in the group. Blaine hadn't paid much attention during the recap of the reapings, but looking around now he takes them all in as much as he can.

He knows he needs to get to know them, get to know their strengths and weaknesses. Needs to know how to get them, how to outsmart and defeat them. The six Career Tributes from District 1,2 and 4 are all standing in a group. Blaine feels Tish stand closer to him as they look around, and he immediately knows there is no way he'll survive this on his own. He grabs Tish's hand, it feels clammy and cold in his own, and pulls her towards the little girl from Twelve. The boy from Twelve stands next to her and catches Blaine's eye as they walk towards them.

Blaine's sure the boy is the same age he is. He smiles at Blaine tentatively and looks down at Tish and Blaine's intertwined hands. He puts an arm on the little girls shoulder and pulls her close. Her eyes are big and earnest when she smiles up at Blaine.

“You're Cooper Anderson's brother,” she says and Blaine throws her a smile back. The second she mentions it he feels eyes from all across the room settle on him. This is who he is, Cooper Anderson's brother. A victor's brother, someone they have seen interviewed before. He may have been six years old when they did, but he knows as well as anyone that he hasn't changed much. He just got a little older.

He looks around the room, a lot older in the past 72 hours, he thinks. Tish squeezes his hand lightly and beams up at him. It's weird, how he feels close and connected to her in this strange little place where more than ever they realize at least one of them is about to die. Still, she's from home. She knows people he knows. She knows what the Justice Building on the square looks like. They keep looking at each other without saying anything, and Blaine smalls down at her. She's shorter than him, though not much, and all the vile from the days before seems gone. It's almost as if she believes Cooper and Quinn will really help her as much as him to get out of the Arena.

Looking at Tish and seeing in her eyes she supports him, it helps distract him from the stares he gets. The girl from Twelve, who introduces herself as Pennie, wriggles herself loose from the grip of her District partner and steps closer to Blaine.

“Just for the record,” she says, “I don't think you have more chance of winning just because Cooper is your brother. I think you'll die pretty soon because they all hate you.”

She gestures to the careers, who are indeed eying Blaine intensely. He wants to answer her, tries to think of something to say, but before he can gather coherent thoughts and open his mouth they're all called to attention by a trainer in the middle of the center.

The woman points out the several stations where they can practice their skills in the next four days. It's got everything they could ever imagine, they can learn how to build fire, how to disguise themselves. They can learn to hunt and to cook. After the fourth day they'll be judged by the Gamemakers.

“You can pick your strongest skill and show it to them in a fifteen minute session. They'll rate you, and the higher the rating, the more chances you have of a nice group of sponsors. So please keep in mind, make sure you are at the top of your strength during your session.”

She releases them to train at a station of their own choosing, Blaine guides Tish towards the fire building station. It's in a back corner, a place where mostly no one can hear them.

“I don't think I have any strengths at all,” Tish says as she takes two twigs from the trainer at the station and sits down next to Blaine.

“We'll find something for you,” he says as he starts trying to build a fire. He's not sure why Cooper wants him to learn all these basic things, wonders if Cooper even understands how much of a target he is as a victor's brother. He wants to learn how to fight, and though he and Quinn have never managed to get anyone out of the Arena before, he needs to trust them. He needs to trust someone in order to get out of here just a little sane.

He and Tish stick together for most of the training session, eat dinner in silence that night. Something between Isabelle and Quinn seems irreparably broken and Cooper and Kurt try their best not to let it ruin Isabelle's attitude towards their two tributes.

Quinn keeps on ignoring Blaine, though that night she does crawl in bed with him and sings their lullaby softly. Blaine doesn't need it necessarily, but it feels like Quinn does and so he lets her sooth him. Her voice fills the room as if it was made for it and he ignores her tears as he feels them fall on the back of his neck where she's holding him close.

She sings to him about pureness and innocence, about a simple life and a lucky lucky girl. Blaine feels like he takes a hit in the chest when she does. Every second in this place he feels his innocence being ripped away from him even more.

Day two of training he sees Tish toughen up, he sees her determined to find a strength of her own and he doesn't tell her he has no idea yet what he will show the judges.

Pennie proves to be excellent at setting traps, knows how to knot better than Blaine has ever seen anyone knot before.

Barse, the boy from twelve, watches over Pennie like an older brother and there are moments where Blaine thinks they might even be brother and sister. Tish tells them they're not, though, but when he notices how he and Tish grow together over the course of the first week, he isn't surprised it is the same in the other Districts' pairings.

The careers leave Blaine alone after the first two days, get lost in their own excessive training sessions and Blaine stops worrying about them as much. Cooper and Quinn set up a plan that included both Blaine and Tish and how to survive. They'll get sponsors (just for you, Blaine, Cooper adds as soon as he can), they won't participate in the bloodbath right after the start of the Games. They'll run, they'll hide and they will let the others fight amongst themselves.

It takes Blaine to the end of the second day to gather courage, before he can seek Kurt out again. He and Tina have been obviously on the background of everything since the first day. They are around in District 9's quarters, watch the television and join them for dinner, but they don't participate in the planning the way Quinn, Cooper and Isabelle do. Blaine wants Kurt's help, he wants it in order to save either Tish or himself. So eventually he does seek out Kurt in his room and sits down on his bed.

“Do you have an answer for me?” Kurt asks sweetly. He's dressed in comfortable clothes. There's paper with design sketches scattered all across the floor. It's weird, Blaine sees his own face staring back it him from several of them. The designs all seem pretty basic and simple. No frills or feathers, mere simple suits with several cuts and colors. Blaine doesn't know much about it, but he can see with his own simple eye that Kurt is going for the boy next door look. He can't say he minds very much.

“I want your help,” he says surely, “on one condition.”

“Which would be?” Kurt asks, picking up one of the sketches he was eying and crumbles it into a small ball before tossing it in the trash.

“If I die -”

“I'll make sure you won't.”

“Kurt... -”

“Okay, go on?”

“If I die, you'll do everything within your power to get Tish home.”

Kurt looks at Blaine with earnest eyes, picks up another sketch to toss in the trash and then sits down on the bed next to Blaine. Blaine has an inexplicable urge to grab Kurt's hand, but he holds them in his lap instead. He sighs deeply, then talks.

“You have to know what I'm doing is very risky,” he starts, “If I could, if I was allowed, I'd put my own money on you, but I can't. I'm supposed to be impartial and I'm not. I want you to win, Blaine, and I'm risking my career on this. Maybe even my tongue.”

“I don't want it. I want Cooper and Quinn to have a win, I want District 9 to win and I want Tish to get the same help you would give me or I don't want any of it. I need to know she'll be taken care of if I'm gone. There's a great chance I'll die, Kurt, even with sponsors. I know it seems settled now, but I'm a target to the careers. They know my brother knows how to win, know my brother will do everything in his power to save me. More than others would. I'll most likely die before I can even run away from the Cornucopia. I need to know she's safe. I have gotten to know her so much over the past few days and she is great. She deserves to win.”

“You deserve to win.”

“Kurt..-”

“Okay,” Kurt relents, “okay. If you die before she does, I'll divert my attention to her. But you have to know I'm doing it all for you.”

A silence falls between them, Blaine doesn't know what to say to that, but he doesn't need to. He stares at the sketches around the room. Wonders if he's even allowed to see the suit he'll be interviewed in before his first fitting, but he can't help himself. He looks at the drawings Kurt has made of him. In each and every one of them his hair is styled, plastered to his head the way it had been in the opening ceremonies.

“Which do you prefer?” Kurt asks eventually. Blaine points to a dark gray suit, it almost seems silver in the sketch. Kurt picks it up, confirms it's his favorite as well. He talks to Blaine about the tailoring, how he wants the cut to be straight and narrow around his legs, the blazer to hug his body like a glove. He talks about fabrics and colors exquisitely and all Blaine can do is listen to his passion. It's nice in a way, to be distracted and think about nothing but clothing and fabrics for a while. The training has really taken a lot out of him and he still has a two days ahead of him before the night of the rating and then his interview the day after that.

The next days Kurt proves to be the best distraction for him. After dinner he and Blaine curl up on the couch together, where they talk. Tish retrieves to her room after dinner both nights. Isabelle joins Cooper and Quinn in plotting a survival plan for their two tributes (for you Blaine, Cooper comes to tell him one night before they go to sleep) and Kurt explains Tina needs a lot more time than Kurt to design Tish's dress. Dresses are harder than suits, he tells.

Kurt does most of the talking the first night. He tells Blaine about life in The Capitol, about struggles that don't feel like struggles at all to Blaine. Except when he talks about his father, he does it with so much love and care Blaine can't help but feel warm inside when he does. Kurt asks Blaine questions, about home and his parents, about Cooper and Quinn. He asks Blaine about his childhood, but Blaine only answers politely. He doesn't want to talk, he wants to listen. Listening to Kurt is somewhat addictive it seems. He likes to stare, too, at The Capitol’s perfection.

Kurt's skin is clear, due to a rigorous skin sloughing routine Kurt tells him. The Capitol has the best products for a clear skin, it has medicine that heels wounds in mere hours and creams that make spots on your skin look invisible within minutes. It's amazing, Kurt is beautiful and mesmerizing to look at. His voice is angelic to listen to and Blaine wishes for all good that it does that he and Kurt could be friends after the Games. If anything, this distraction sessions with Kurt makes him even more inclined to fight until he is the one to walk out of that Arena. Something about Kurt makes him want to fight, and if Kurt is doing everything for him he might as well do everything for Kurt.

The night before his private session with the Gamemakers he still doesn't have a plan as to what to do for them, no idea where his strength lies when he and Kurt settle down on the couch. Tish has long since decided she'll show them her disguise skills. Blaine wonders if she would be on a prep team were she born in the Capitol. She uses the paint and make up station to make herself look like trees, like rocks, she can make herself hide better than anyone else has ever done.

Blaine tells Kurt about his indecisiveness. His fear of not being good enough at anything to get a high rating. He apologizes to Kurt for being so incredibly stupid, tells him it's probably going to be impossible for him, Cooper and Quinn to convince the sponsors to help him.

“Calm down,” Kurt shushes him and takes his face between his hands. Blaine searches for a tiny trace of the panic he feels in Kurt's eyes, but he finds none. Kurt's hands are strong on his cheeks and he holds onto Blaine until Blaine can breathe regularly again.

“We'll find something,” Kurt whispers, “I don't care if we sit here until three o'clock in the morning, we'll figure something out for you.”

Kurt's voice has never been more reassuring than it is in that moment, Blaine wishes Kurt's hands would stay on his cheeks until three o'clock in the morning. The strong grip calms him, sooths him and grounds him. It keeps him in the moment. When Kurt's hands leave his face it feels as if an ice cold breeze surrounds him. He sinks in the cushions of the plush couch and tries to answer Kurt's questions.

What did you like as a child? Do you dance when you perform? Have you ever broken any laws? Did you ever hunt or fish? Have you ever been in a fight? None of the questions seem to lead to a talent that could help Blaine get a high rating, until Kurt asks him what his favorite sports or games to play were as a child.

“I'm flexible,” Blaine says, “Cooper and I, we used to play hide and seek and I used to hide in the smallest places. I can curl up in a tiny ball, I can climb trees. We didn't practice those kind of skills in training because Cooper told us to do the basic survival. Do you think that could work in my favor?”

“I don't know how the Gamemakers think, but if I was one of them I'd understand that being flexible and good at hiding, good at climbing, would help me escape my enemies. I say go for that.”

“Thank you. I think I will.”

“And Blaine?”

“Yes?”

“Don't worry about my sponsors, they're not going to care about your ratings. They'll do it for me, I promise.” Kurt throws him a soft smile, which Blaine can't help to return. “And now you need your sleep,” Kurt says as he takes Blaine's hand and pulls him up. They say goodbye at Blaine's bedroom door and as soon as Blaine is in bed, he falls into a peaceful slumber.

Waking up the next morning, he feels well rested and confident for his rating. They have the day off until rating starts, and he uses it to take a long shower and start an easy morning. He sees Kurt working in his room when he walks past it, decides not to disturb him and have breakfast for himself.

He talks strategy with Cooper some more, while Quinn busies herself talking to Tish. Cooper keeps insisting they're doing everything in their power to get Blaine out, and though Blaine makes him promise to save Tish after he dies, he doesn't feel like he can ask too much of Cooper in that aspect. He can't imagine having the strength to save a life if he ever lost his brother.

“Don't play the brother card here,” Cooper makes Blaine promise, “show them your flexibility and climbing skills.” He promises to stay far away from the skill Cooper had used, which had been throwing knives at moving targets. Cooper and Quinn escort them down to the training center, where they get in their training gear and then are sat down to wait their turn for rating.

It goes in District's orders, and Blaine watches the careers from 1 and 2 go in, there's exactly fifteen minutes between each called in tribute, they're exact to the second. He waits as 3 and 4 go in, and by the time the tributes from District 5 are called the minutes seem to last longer than the ones before. They're still accurate by the second though, and so when Tish gets called in before him he watches the second hand on the clock over the door like a lifeline. He wonders what she's doing inside, if she's too nervous to do it right or if she's showing them a marvelous job. He wishes he could watch her, send her a secret smile to cheer her on.

He thinks about how amazing she is, how strong she's been all four days of training. She has never wavered in her confidence any second, truly believed Quinn at least was at her side. Blaine keeps feeling conflicted about it. He wants himself out alive. Or her. He wants to survive this and he'll do anything for it, but should it come down to him and Tish, he's not sure what he would do.

Finally, finally it's time for Blaine to go in. The Gamemakers sit on their high platform in the middle of the right side of the training center. Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane welcomes Blaine with a creepily kind smile and gestures for him to do his thing. Blaine looks around for things to climb and settles for the thick, steel foundation of the knotting station. He climbs high up in it and then balances himself on the top bar.

He sneaks a glance at the Gamemakers. Most of them look bored and are sipping from whatever, most likely alcoholic, beverage it is they are consuming. Only Seneca Crane and a round, older guy next to him are following Blaine's every move. Blaine looks around for something to either jump or climb to when he realizes there's nothing around for him to move over to.

He looks up. He's a small guy, but if he does this right he could do it, and he could really make an impression. He's only got one shot so he crouches on the bar, tightens every muscle in his body to stay balanced and then shoots off as hard as he can. He grabs onto two of the metal bars that make the checkered ceiling. He swings himself forward to an open space in it and then pulls himself up to crawl in it.

Through the small checkers he can see more Gamemakers looking around now, hears one of them ask if Nine's time is over yet. They think he's left, they can't see him though he can see them. Seneca Crane and his colleague watch the spot where Blaine has disappeared into and when he moves forward their eyes don't move with him. The inside of the ceiling is dark, and Blaine's only option is to crawl through it until he finds an opening to let himself out again, or move back to where he disappeared and let himself down onto the ground easily. He decides quickly that the former is his best option now, disappear and reappear somewhere else might convince them he's got a good sense of hiding and dodging his enemy, thus being worthy and a convincing candidate for winning.

Blaine crawls towards the sound of voices. It's uncomfortable on just the metal bars that are crossed into a checkered pattern, with just a thin layer of sheet over them that guides as his disguise, but where the voices are the loudest he sees a gap in front of him. It seems like the gaps offer ventilation into training center, as it is in located the basement, and it's the perfect size for Blaine to fit through. He grabs two metal bars under the sheet at the side of the gap, curls his legs from behind him, through under him, until he can lower them through the gap. He lets his body come behind him and when his head goes through he looks down to see how deep his fall will be.

It won't be deep at all, so he unleashes his hands and braces himself for the landing. It's easy, he bends his knees just a little to keep steady and when he looks up he looks straight into Seneca Crane's face.

It's only then he understands why the floor had been so close, he's landed on the platform of the Gamemakers. He's not sure what to say or do, his brain seems to stop functioning whatsoever and so without thinking he says, “I'm excellent at creeping up on my enemy. The element of surprise isn't one that should be underrated.”

He jumps of the platform, lands painfully on his left foot but holds strong and ignores it until he has left the hall of the training center. Cooper, Tish and Quinn are waiting patiently and look up with wondering faces as he gets through the door.

“Well, that was a dumb idea,” he says.

He explains what he has done in the elevator back up, Quinn stares straight ahead the whole time and her face is unreadable. Cooper sighs deeply and rolls his eyes, but doesn't say anything. Tish, however, panics and almost starts hyperventilating. She keeps saying it's bad, he's done bad, he'll never get Sponsors now. Blaine wants to tell her to stop worrying, make her realize it's only convenient for her that he screwed up, but he agrees too much with her to actually do something about it.

Back in their quarters Cooper repeats the story to their stylists and Isabelle, who gasps loudly and smacks Blaine on the back of the head.

“How could you!” she barks, “that is a sacred place to those Gamemakers.”

“I didn't know I'd end up there!” Blaine defends himself.

“Well, you had better hope they understand that boy, or you will be dead before you reach the Cornucopia.”

“Let's just watch the actual broadcast,” Kurt suggests from his spot on the couch, turning on the television where Caesar Flickerman sits ready to announce everyone's rating. They all take their places on the couch, Blaine next to Kurt. It's a little tight with all of them, and they're sitting pressed close together.

The Tributes from One through Four all get ratings higher than a seven, Five and Six's ratings vary between fives and tens, but by the time District 7 and 8's ratings are announced, Blaine isn't paying attention anymore.

Kurt is breathing heavily next to him, and has gripped Blaine's hand tightly. It's a clammy hand, and Blaine's not sure if its his or Kurt's that's shaking with nerves so badly. It's probably the both of them. Eventually Tish gets assigned a simple six, to which everyone nods and agrees it's a perfectly okay score for her, and then it's time for Blaine.

His ears are ringing as he listens to the red haired man on the screen speak.

“Now for the moment you've all been waiting for,” he starts off, “our very own sort of celebrity tribute for this year. It is Cooper Anderson's brother, the young and handsome mister Blaine Anderson. I remember Cooper Anderson having an amazing aim, bows, knives, spears, he could throw them all. It's what got him the victory in the end. I'm curious if his brother is as talented as him.”

In the background there's a replay of the famous moment of Coopers win, where he had thrown a spear right into his last enemies' gut. It's not an image Blaine likes to see, and he knows Cooper avoids it at all costs. Still, it's there and as soon as it's gone Blaine's face comes into view over it, dressed in his training suit. The picture had been taken during day one of training, and if Blaine wasn't too busy clutching Kurt's hand desperately and waiting for his score, he'd notice how utterly scared he looks in the picture.

“For Blaine Anderson,” Caesar exclaims loudly, “we have a score of three!”

Three?

Three.

A score of three. The lowest score thus far. A heavy silence settles in the room, Tish's fond smile changes into a worried frown, Isabelle's proud beam does the same and Quinn and Cooper both stare blankly ahead. Kurt's grip on Blaine's hand becomes almost unbearably tight, squeezing his knuckles together painfully. Blaine isn't sure what he feels. Caesar Flickerman keeps talking on screen. The lowest score so far, not at all like his brother, who scored a ten. It's probably not a family thing then, victory.

“You have to win,” Kurt whispers in his ear, “you have to prove them these scores mean nothing.”

Yes, he thinks, I have to win.

They're already playing the brother card, comparing him to Cooper, comparing his scores to Cooper. He knows the Capitol loves Cooper, knows how often Cooper has to turn down an invite from President Snow because the Capitol wants him to visit. He'll make the Capitol love him just as much. Caesar is talking about Cooper now? He'll talk about Cooper tomorrow, too.

They finish watching the broadcast, District Eleven scores two fours, and though that's low too, it doesn't make Blaine feel any better. Pennie and Barse both score a seven, which suprises Blaine. Still, that's all the feelings he's got energy for. He can't be happy for them, or feel even worse about himself. It's as if getting the lowest score out of all the tributes has lit a fire in him. He'll prove them wrong, he was smart and he showed great skills. Sure, he pissed them off but he showed them he was smart, smarter than them. And if he's smarter than the Gamemakers, he sure as hell is smarter than the rule-following Tributes.

Sleep doesn't come that night. Quinn keeps screaming and he hears Cooper trying to calm her down all night. There's a nagging feeling in his stomach that he's the one causing it, the screaming, but she's been ignoring him ever since his name was reaped and so he doesn't feel the need to get out of bed and comfort her.

He wants to get out and go into Kurt's room, talk to him about what to do now, but before he can Kurt comes knocking on his door. He doesn't say anything, just crawls into bed and spoons Blaine from behind.

“I know you would rather have Cooper or Quinn hold you tonight,” he whispers eventually, “but they're so busy calming each other down I thought I would help you out.”

Blaine doesn't tell Kurt how much he actually enjoys being in his arms, but he also doesn't resist crawling back closer to Kurt's warmth and comfort. It's amazing, how in a few short days Kurt has become one of the biggest sources of courage and reassurance for him. How he trusts everything Kurt says and does. Thinking about the gorgeous suit Kurt has designed for him, he falls into a dreamless sleep.

And gorgeous was the right word to use for the suit. The next day goes by in a blur, until he's alone in a bright dressing room with Kurt. The room is prettier than the dim, stale room in the basement of the building where the training center is. If he wasn't here to put on a suit he'll be buried in if he dies in the Games, he would almost call the ambiance cozy or romantic.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Kurt tells him as he gets out from behind the curtain. He looks in the long mirror on the wall and can't help but to agree with Kurt. His prep-team had styled his hair into a tight helmet again, using so much product Blaine's afraid it will take him five hours in the shower to get them out. Still, he likes the way it makes him look. He looks stylish, comfortable and almost dapper. The suit is, conveniently, the same cut as Cooper's was on his interview. The color is a shining dark gray, almost looks silver, and to Blaine's amazement it suits him.

Kurt stands behind him and looks over Blaine's shoulder into the mirror.

“Just one more adjustment,” he says, “you look almost exactly like Cooper did, I want you to be your own as well as his brother.”

Kurt's arms come around him with something that looks to short to be a tie, and when he starts to knot it Blaine notices it is a bow tie. On it are, ironically, tiny silver stars. Cooper had worn a silver star as a token on his suit, then on his track suit in the Arena.

“I have a clip on one for your token, too, if you want it,” Kurt says, “I just thought the little bow tie you wore on your reaping day should be something that made a come back. You looked absolutely lovely in it.”

“I never usually wear them,” Blaine says, “only special occasions.”

“Well, an interview with Caesar Flickerman is about as special as it gets,” Kurt smiles, “but don't be nervous. Tina and I will be in the audience and Cooper, Quinn and Isabelle will be backstage.”

Kurt takes him to a long line of Tributes, sets him behind Tish and squeezes his shoulder gently before heading off to find his seat. Tish looks absolutely beautiful in her dress, a dark green one that shines just like Blaine's suit does. Her make up is simple and natural, yet she looks about ten years older than she is. Her hair is done up in a lovely coif, though Blaine isn't sure how they managed it with the little amount of hair she has. He doesn't talk to her, though, doesn't ask her how long her prep team had been busy with her. He hadn't seen her since morning, so he assumes it has taken her a whole lot longer to look the way she looks now than it did him.

One by one the Tributes are called up on the stage, Caesar asks them all about their home, how they like the Capitol. Tells them all to do their very best, wishes them all luck and says to all of them he hopes they win. Ironic, Blaine thinks, you want us all to win and yet you sit here night by night animatedly recapping your favorite deaths. The more vicious, the better.

Eventually it's Tish's turn. Blaine is left backstage with only the boy and girl from Eleven, and Barse and Pennie from Twelve. Pennie is dressed in an adorable light pink dress, her hair in a short braid with the lose hair under it styled in ringlets. Her make up, too, is natural, but her cheeks are made rosier than they were during training and her lips are as light pink as her dress. It almost makes Blaine sick, how obviously they are playing the little girl card with this girl. This little girl, because it's true that she is one. Still, making the Capitol feel sorry for sending such a young person into the Arena should make them understand how sick the Games actually are?

Before he knows it Tish is walking up the stage and he hears, again, the familiar sounds of Cooper's Victory. They really are making the Capitol understand he is his brother's family.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Caesar yells to the crowd, “the moment you have all been waiting for. Let's find out if he is as charismatic as his older brother, here is Blaine Anderson!”

Blaine walks onto the stage with his head held high. He greets Caesar with a smile as charming as he can muster, then seeks out Kurt's eyes in the audience. The first thing he sees is the silver tattoo next to Kurt's eye shining with the light from the stage. He sits right up front, and closes his eyes while nodding at Blaine. It's as if he's giving him a confirmation. You're doing well, keep going.

“So nice to see you again, Caesar,” Blaine says. He wonders if Caesar even remembers meeting him that one time he came to the District 9 to interview Cooper in their home. It was about three weeks after Cooper had returned from the Games, twelve years ago. Blaine was just a little boy then. 

“Well you too, Blaine, you look a whole lot better tonight than you did when I first met you.”

“Thank you,” Blaine chuckles. Frankly, Caesar is right.

“Let me explain to the people watching,” he starts, “about twelve years ago I visited District 9 for an interview with that year's victor. His name was Cooper Anderson and he had this cute little brother named Blaine. Blaine was only six years old, but already a real rebel, I can tell you.”

The crowd laughs when Caesar laughs, as if he pushes a button and they react.

“So you imagine, I walk in there fully expecting a well dressed family ready to be interviewed. It's what I got, apart from this little nugget here. He didn't like the clothes his mother had laid out for him and so he had refused to get dressed. I believe you wore a potato sack in protest? Is that right?”

“I think it was a sack we store the grain in in our District,” Blaine corrects Caesar with a fond smile.

“Ah yes, you are absolutely right my boy, the last time I saw you, you wore a grain sack. You looked cute then, but I'm happy to see Kurt Hummel thought this would suit you better.”

“So am I,” Blaine says genuinely and sends Kurt a wink. The audience sighs out an awe as he does so, but then it's on to Caesar's next question.

“So, Blaine, let's talk real now. How are you holding up?”

“I'm doing okay, thank you Caesar.”

“And how are you parents and brother holding up?”

“Well,” Blaine starts, “my parents are obviously shaken. It can't be easy to see your second child go off into the Arena. I mean, how much can the odds be in anyone's favor?”

“Of course, of course,”

“As for Cooper,” he continues, “he's doing everything he can to hold it together. It's very hard for him to be a m,entor to his kid brother. I might be eighteen, but I'm always his little brother you know. I think it's almost as if he’s sending his own child into the Arena.”

A few audience members gasp, and Blaine tries his hardest to believe the tears in Caesar Flickerman's eyes are real. But whether they are or not, he's made the audience do what they meant for him to do; feel empathy with him on a personal level. Mothers and fathers throughout Panem will see him as their own child now, because he's one of 'their' families. Cooper, being a victor, is seen as a hero, their hero. He is Cooper's family. Maybe, just maybe, this will make up for his low score.

“Blaine Anderson, my dear boy,” Caesar says as he slaps a firm hand down on Blaine's shoulder, “you and that gorgeous bow tie will have to do everything you can to get out of that Arena. For us, for our Cooper.”

“For Cooper, I will.”

That's it, it's over, the interview is done. Everything that's left to do now is sleep, get up very early and be taken to the hovercraft. He's done it, he's done it all and his list is finished. Opening ceremony, training, rating, interview, trying not to die.

Trying not to die.

Trying not to die. It's all that's left to do. He walks backstage in a trance, hugs Cooper, then Quinn and Isabelle at the same time. Tish gives him a soft kiss on his cheek and congratulates him. They all praise him, tell him he's done amazingly. Tell him the crowd loved him, but it goes by in a trance for Blaine. Everything is a blur, hazy and it doesn't feel real anymore. His list is done, trying not to die, keeps floating through his head, trying not to die.

He doesn't bother watching Eleven's interviews, is happy he doesn't know their names because it will make their deaths less painful he thinks, and when Pennie graces the screen backstage, he watches her mouth move. He watches Caesar being sweet with her, but doesn't hear a word they say. Tish stands close to him at his side, he pulls her even closer to her and hugs her tightly. This is his last chance to let her know.

“I'll take care of your family,” he says, “if you don't win, if I do, I'll make sure they'll be fed and cared for.”

“I know,” she whispers, “Quinn promised me too, I know.”

“But you have to fight as hard as me,” he makes her promise, “please fight with me. One of us, it has to be one of us. Or Pennie.”

“Pennie, you or me,” she agrees.

When they get back up to the ninth floor, Tina and Kurt are already waiting for them. Tina hauls Tish off to her bedroom to help her out of the complicated dress and hairdo, and Kurt smiles bashfully at Blaine.

“You did amazing,” he says shyly. Blaine wonders where it comes from, maybe from the compliments he and Caesar had given Kurt's design, “the crowd loved you.”

“I couldn't have done it without this,” he gestures down to his dark silver armor, “you truly did an amazing job with this.”

“Oh silly,” Kurt smiles, “I'm sure they'd have loved you just as much had you worn that potato sack.”

“Grain sack,” Blaine corrects him.

“Right, a grain sack. They'd have loved you very easily. You're very easy to love.”

Kurt blushes to the tip of his ears when he says it, and the air in the room feels a little bit thicker than before. It's quiet in the living room, with just Kurt and Blaine standing there. Quinn and Cooper are busy chatting up Sponsors downstairs, Isabelle is most likely having drinks with friends from the Capitol. It's just them, even their Avox servants are nowhere to be found.

“You should get some sleep,” Kurt says softly after a long, too long, silence, “tomorrow is a big day. You'll need your strength.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees quietly, “I probably should.”

They walk to their rooms together, it's a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but at the same time Kurt at Blaine's side is a very welcome feeling. He doesn't really want Kurt to leave, but when they reach his room he can't think of a single reason not to say goodbye.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Kurt says, “have they explained how tomorrow is going to go?”

“Vaguely.”

“Okay, you'll leave here with Isabelle, Tina, Tish and I. Isabelle will come with you on the hovercraft, where they'll have some last minute preparations to take care of. Tina and I will be taken to the Arena, where we will get your suit and token ready for you. I'll see you right before you'll be send off. I'll be there.”

“I'm glad,” Blaine says, “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Kurt whispers, then squeezes the arm Blaine hadn't even noticed he was holding, “see you tomorrow.”

Again, sleep doesn't come. It's not like Blaine isn't tired, but just the idea of going off into the Arena tomorrow, of watching people die before his eyes isn't something he can just shake. He keeps tossing and turning, hoping for someone to come into his bed and hold him. Sing to him. It doesn't even matter who, Cooper or Kurt. What he doesn't expect, though, is Quinn again. Just like a few days ago, the first night after the reaping on the train, she crawls in his bed and sings their song again.

Pure and simple. Innocence, a lucky lucky thing. She sings about things Blaine doesn't understand, not anymore. Innocence doesn't exist in a world where children get send off into an Arena to fight to death, and none of them are lucky, lucky things.

He falls asleep eventually, though he's roused again mere hours later. Quinn isn't anywhere to be found, and Cooper is just able to give him a quick goodbye before he's off to the sponsors to talk up to them.

“Fight, Blaine, fight for me.” He hugs him close, kisses his curls and tries not to show Blaine his tears. He does see them, he sees them and he feels his own tears starting to surface. Kurt grips his hand tight after Cooper's elevator disappears and his thumb strokes softly over Blaine's hand. It doesn't comfort him much, but it comforts him as much as is possible in this moment.

Everything is hazy as the elevator comes back up and takes them to the platform where they'll find the hovercraft. Tina and Kurt are hauled off before he can say goodbye properly, they need to be in another hovercraft than the Tributes. Then he and Tish are pushed into a compartment and subsequently pushed down into chairs where they're bound tight with belts.

A faceless peacekeeper takes Blaine's arm and jabs a thick needle in it. When he gets the syringe out, it seems like the needle is still inside his arm. Right, the tracking device with which they'll know where he is at all times. He looks around at the other tributes as they get stabbed with the needles. All of them seem to live in their own world for now, but soon it'll be their world. The world of these twenty four people. That's all there'll be, and only one will come back to the real world.

Tish stares blankly ahead, Pennie searches around for someone to look at her and when she sees Blaine, she smiles and winks. He smiles and winks back, feels terrible for hoping he'll win because it means she'll die. And Tish, and Barse, and all these people. He wants to throw up.

Before he can truly come to himself, take a calm breath and think, the hovercraft comes to a sudden halt and the doors open. All their escorts stand at the door and they're let off the craft in District orders. Twelve first, Eleven, Ten, And then it's Blaine and Tish's turn to leave into the last stop before the Arena. Blaine isn't sure how the construction works, but Cooper had explained to him he'll be put in a a tube and sent up into the Arena. So they must be under the Arena now.

Isabelle's heels make a loud clicking sound in the echoing hall, she drops Tish off first and when she does Blaine gets a quick glance at Tina waiting there. He wonders what kind of token she and Tish have decided on. Tina and Tish, a team to be reckoned with he thinks. They shouldn't underestimate that fifteen year old girl, she might just show them how strong she is.

The next door they reach is Blaine's final destination. Isabelle comes to a sudden halt, blinks a tear away and tries to straighten Blaine's clothing, though it's nearly impossible in the skin tight suit he's wearing.

“Just try to win,” she whispers, “Cooper always talks about you so fondly, I feel like I know you more than anyone I've ever sent in.”

And that's when Blaine gets it, when everything clicks to him. It's not just Cooper, it's everyone in the Capitol who knows Cooper. They all love him, they all want Blaine to win. No, not Blaine. They just want Cooper's little brother to win. The careers will give him hell for it.

With his heart heavier than ever before, he steps into the sterile room where Kurt waits on him. Kurt has a thick coat ready for him, the bow tie with silver stars clipped in the front pocket. Blaine gets into it quietly, takes the heavy boots Kurt offers him and those, too, he puts on in silence.

“Two minutes to take off,” a voice breaks the silence between them and Kurt lets out a little gasp. Blaine looks up at him, sees the tears stream down Kurt's face and shoots up to hold him tight. He hears himself shush Kurt, though he's not aware why he does it. It's not like it helps. Kurt only sobs louder.

“You're the first person I've ever styled for,” Kurt cries, “you're the first person I'm seeing off. I care too much. I need to learn not to care.”

“No,” Blaine says firmly, “please, always care like this. I'm about to go in there and fight for my life. If the last person I see who should be on my side would be indifferent, I'm not sure if I would have much strength in me. Being here, with you, it gives me a reason to fight. Please, always care.”

“Of course,” Kurt says, “I'll always care about you, how could I not care about you? I mean, look at you. Even with your curls and in this ridiculously plain, thick coat, you look amazing. And you're so strong and sweet. I'll always care about you.”

“That's good,” Blaine says and wipes the tears from Kurt's eyes with his thumb. His breath catches when he slides a thumb over the tattoo at the corner of Kurt's eye. He'd expected to feel a little bump in the skin, but everything is still flawless when he thumbs over it. Kurt notices Blaine checking out his tattoo under the feel of his thumb and smiles tenderly.

The silence stretches as they watch each other, Kurt covers Blaine's hand with his own and neither of them know what to say. They smile at each other, smile some more, and it feels like an electrical shock through Blaine's body when he notices how close they are standing together. He still strokes his thumb along Kurt's perfect, pink cheekbone and when Kurt leans just that little bit closer he -

“Thirty seconds to take off.”

He presses their lips together in a harsh, rushed kiss before he pulls back and steps on the platform where a glass tube closes around him.

“I'm sorry,” he manages to say. His lips are tingling with the sensation of Kurt's, and though he can't hear Kurt anymore, the awestruck look on his face promises him the kiss was no mistake. He puts his hand on the glass, and sees Kurt cover it with his own. Blaine can make out the words you and win. Yes, he thinks, for you I'll win.

For Kurt, for Cooper. For Quinn and his mother. Hell, even for Isabelle and the Avoxes that have been serving Cooper and Quinn for years. He'll have to do this for all of them, show the Capitol he's worth so much more than that three. Kurt's friends will be his Sponsors. He'll fight, he knows how to fight. He'll run away from the Cornucopia, find shelter, get sponsors. He'll try to keep Tish alive as long as possible, Pennie too. He'll manage to form an alliance with them. They'll be a force against the nameless people Blaine has to face in the arena.

He looks Kurt in the eyes for as long as he can, tries to ignore the tears still flowing. He mouths thank you, hopes Kurt understands. Thank you for everything, thank you for lighting my fire and giving me a reason to fight. Thank you for being so much more than anything I had expected from The Capitol. Thank you for being you. 

The platform Blaine is on starts to move. Kurt's hand moves up with him, to keep it covered over Blaine's. His shoulders are shaking with sobs and he tangles his free hand in his hair. It almost looks as if he's about to rip the hair out. Soon enough Blaine has to crouch down to keep his hand with Kurt's, but when Kurt starts to shake his head violently he knows he can't do that. He needs to stand up straight when he enters the Arena. Everyone will see him rise from the ground. And if he does that while he's yelling comforting words to Kurt, it won't do him any good.

He takes one last look at Kurt, kisses his fingers and points them at him, then looks above him, where the ceiling opens. In streams a bright, white light. His head is through first, which is startled with sharp cold. He closes his eyes tightly, the whiteness surrounding him causing a sudden blindness. It's not until the platform that lifted him comes to a halt that he manages to open his eyes again.

Around him, everywhere, there's snow. He looks around, sees Tish next to him and she's staring straight ahead. She's staring at the count down over the Cornucopia. Blaine sees it, too, 50 more seconds to go. He looks down, then, sees weapons and food. He sees backpacks and fire wood. He looks around, tries to find a route to escape to. Tries to sign to Tish to follow him, but she doesn't even look around. All she does is watch the clock religiously.

Blaine takes up the Arena. As far as he looks, there's snow. There's a bunch of trees into the far distance behind him, but he knows there's no chance of running there to find shelter or seek safety higher up. The snow will slow down his sprint and he'll have a spear or arrow through his back before he'll reach them.

Ten

He looks around. On his right there's Tish, on his left there's no one. He's on the outer platform of the twenty four.

Nine

There's trees around the Cornucopia. A whole bunch of them. If he manages to get to the back unseen, he'll get to the trees.

Eight

Except he can't run in the snow and as soon as someone has weapons and they've seen him go, he'll be a dead man.

Seven

Tish is still watching the countdown like a cat watching a bird in a tree.

Six

Where's Pennie? What is Pennie’s plan?

Five

If he could just seek it higher up somewhere, hide out until the initial blood bath is over and come up with a new plan then.

Four

If he could only watch what's behind the big Cornucopia, right behind it. If he could only look at the Arena from a bit higher up, from the middle of it and look around to see what he could do.

Three

If he could climb something to hide and simultaneously think of a new plan he could -

Two

He could climb the Cornucopia. Run to the back, climb on it before anyone realizes where he is. Wait there and hope no one will find him.

One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update on New Year's day. Hope you enjoyed it! Please find me on tumblr for art/manips related to this fic, send me messages there or leave comments hear. I would love to hear your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 2

Blaine shoots off to the side as soon as the countdown hits zero. He doesn't look sideways, only prays Tish was smart enough to think of something. Blaine takes a giant detour, dragging himself through the thick layer of snow as fast as he can.

A big blizzard seems to have started simultaneously to the clock hitting zero and his vision is blurred. At least it will cover up his tracks. It feels as if everyone around him has run towards the Cornucopia, he hears screams and yells, and screams and yells cut off midway through them. Grunts and blunt object hitting hard surfaces. He gets to the back of the Cornucopia and is met with nothing, no one. He's the only one who thought of this.

He puts his palm flat against the surface and starts to climb. Ignoring the stinging pain the ice cold metal leaves on the inside of his hand, Blaine climbs and climbs until he's reached a flat part of the Cornucopia. He still hears screams and shrill voices, they sound scared and angry all together. It's probably best to find the most secluded place of the Cornucopia, much higher up. Climbing hurts, and he sighs in relief when he gets to the point. His hands are in agony, which Blaine ignores as he takes his place in between two pointing ends on the metal construction. He pulls his hood over his head and curls up as tightly as he can.

His hands feel like they are burning and when he inspects them, he finds blisters all over the palm. Frozen, from climbing the ice cold metal, he thinks. He's not entirely good with medicine and healing, but he knows these blisters can get infected if he doesn't treat them right. He tucks his hands inside his coat and puts them under either of his armpits, he guesses warming them up now might be the best thing.

He tries to drown out the sounds of people dying below him by humming songs, but he can't get too loud either or they'll know he's there. He hums Quinn's song for what feels like ages, constantly aware of the dead bodies beneath him. Is Tish amongst them? Or Pennie? Is Barse killing people, or was he smart and good enough to be able to think of something else?

Blaine doesn't know Barse very well, doesn't feel protective over him the way he does over Pennie or Tish, but the way Barse has been protecting Pennie makes him have a soft spot for him. It might also be just knowing his name, knowing where he's from. Blaine needs to stop thinking about the people who'll die in order for him to live. He needs to think of people who'll live, too, if he gets out of this alive.

He thinks of his mother and his father, how they're sitting in front of the television right now. Anxious, that face again. That face his mother had all the two weeks Cooper had spend in the Arena. He sees his father, pacing the floor and worried. He sees Cooper, he sees Quinn, but most of all he sees Kurt. He sees Kurt's surprised face after he had pressed their lips together. Kurt's silver lines, and his silver tattoo. The silver streaks in his hair. Everything is cold and everything is Kurt. He can't make sense of what is happening anymore, he has stopped humming without realizing and all there seems left to do is clattering his teeth together and shaking all over.

He shakes and clatters his teeth, doesn't hear anything but the wind blowing around the Cornucopia and eventually everything turns black as he falls into a deep unconsciousness. There's no dreams, no visual ones, all he hears is piercing shrill screams and the wind whooshing around him. It's not until the cannon starts announcing the end of the bloodbath that he comes to his senses.

Around him the blizzard seems to have stopped, and he's still alive so he reckons no one has thought to climb the Cornucopia the way he had. Or maybe they were smart enough not to do it. His hands sting with pain and when he gets them out from under his armpits to inspect them, he sees the blisters have only grown since he last saw them.

When he tries to hear what is going on around him, he's only met with the sound of the cannon going off. One, two, three... -

By the time it's over it's gone of fourteen times. Fourteen deaths in the bloodbath. He's not sure if it's a record, but he knows it's a lot. When the anthem starts, he's happy to see neither Tish, nor Pennie's or Barse's pictures up in the sky to announce their passings. He climbs over the to the edge of the Cornucopia to take a better, more relaxed look around the Arena now he's not on a countdown or avoiding a bloodbath and stuck in a snow blizzard. He stands up carefully, making sure to watch out for any activity around him. The sky is dark, though the moon on the white snow gives the Arena a glow brighter than a usual night would be.

He makes a slow turn, locates a frozen over lake to his right and the trees behind the Cornucopia, which all seem to be pine trees, do form a forest bigger than he had first anticipated. For food, he assumes, that would be the best place to hunt. First he'd need hunting gear, though, or at least some rope or strings to set traps. He needs something to catch water in and maybe something to drill through the ice lake. He also needs something to cover his tracks in the snow with. 

He doesn't hear anything below him, but just to be sure he lies flat on his stomach and pulls himself to peek over the edge of the Cornucopia. It seems like every trace of a body has already disappeared. The snow is smooth and white, still falling slowly. There's no traces of footprints or anyone being close to the Cornucopia, so he almost decides to go down and see if he can retrieve some equipment, when something ruffles in the snow about twenty meters away from him.

Right next to where Tish's platform was, a small figure appears above the snow. Blaine chuckles, she had taken the element of disguise pretty seriously. Tish stands up. Her nose is blue, almost dead from buried in the snow for so long and her fingers don't look much better. She looks around dazedly, spots Blaine above her and starts moving towards him. Just as she's about to smile, something flashes in the corner of Blaine's eye. His head snaps towards it, then back to Tish and he knows - 

She's gone for. There's still someone beneath him in the Cornucopia. Tish falls backwards, a spear pierced through her stomach. Immediately around her, the snow turns into a bright red color. If the look of it wasn't so utterly disturbing, Blaine would laugh about how much it looks like Caesar's hair. Tish's eyes are wide with horror, but she doesn't make a sound. She keeps staring at Blaine, who covers his mouth with a blistered hand. He holds himself tight and it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to scream. He keeps looking at Tish, needs the last thing she sees to be a familiar face.

I'll take care of them, he thinks, your mother, your siblings, your father. They'll never want for anything, except for you back. I'll take care of them.

“Close your eyes,” he mouths, but she either doesn't understand or is too far gone to comprehend anything right now. He keeps looking at her, hopes whoever is watching her from inside doesn't notice she's staring at the top of the Cornucopia rather than just the sky. The pool of red snow around her turns wider, her breathing is heavy and irregular. Blaine can hear it from where he is twenty five meters away from her that she's groaning now. He waits, watches her as his tears stream and freeze on his face before they fall. 

Tish doesn't close her eyes, her breathing comes in short spurts and Blaine wishes he could do something, anything, to make her suffering halt. The pool of blood around her is an ugly reminder of her pain and he tries to focus on her eyes. They look at him pleading, desperate, until they're not looking at anything at all anymore.

A cannon sounds as soon as her eyes turn empty, Blaine wonders if the tracker in their arms can feel a pulse as well as send out their location. He tries to keep his sobbing sounds to himself when obviously he's not alone in this place. There's someone right below him, someone who's not too shy to take a spear and throw it at an innocent bystander. Most likely a Career. He needs to be quiet, sit it out and don't sleep until he knows he's safe to get down from his spot.

He crawls back, as quietly as humanly possible, to the secluded place between two larger parts of the Cornucopia and curls in on himself. He can't make a single sound, he knows that, and so he only sings to himself in his head. Still the only song that comes up is what he has now dubbed as Quinn's song. He pulls the hood of his jacket tighter around his head and rests himself against the metal structure behind him. 

He tries not to cry, doesn't want to come across as weak to people who might sponsor him, However, his tears start flowing and they freeze on his face as soon as a hovercraft retrieves his body. His hands feel numb now, painful and numb at the same time and it's the oddest sensation he's ever felt. He feels grief, too, grief for Tish and for those fourteen others who haven't made it through the bloodbath.

Tish, small and smart, beautiful sweet Tish. Hiding in the snow. He wonders if maybe more people have thought of that, hiding in the snow. Hiding in plain view, it's something he's heard one of the trainers at the training center go on about. He wonders where Pennie and Barse are, when they're obviously still alive.

Twenty four to start off with, fifteen dead. That leaves nine of them. He counts. Himself, Pennie and Barse are still alive, plus six others. Both the Tributes from One, the girl from Two, the boy from Four, the boy from Six and the girl from Seven. The rest is gone, dead. Just eight people to survive now to get back home. Mom, dad, Cooper, Quinn, Kurt. He repeats the names in his head like a mantra. Mom, dad, Cooper, Quinn, Kurt. It's as if they take over the list he'd created before the games. He keeps thinking about them, the reasons to live.

He doesn't know how long he sits atop the Cornucopia, waiting for the sun to rise and daylight to start. He doesn't notice his fingers turning white and then blue, he doesn't even realize how cold he is until he can't feel his nose anymore. The blisters on his hand shrink, wrinkle and they don't look very pretty but he can't seem to care. He's hungry, though he guesses he could go without food for quite some time, and he's thirsty. He knows snow is mostly clean and if he could just get to the top layer of it he could get some liquid in his system, yet he is too afraid to move. He doesn't want to announce his presence to whoever is waiting for him inside before he has a plan.

Just as the sun starts to rise and Blaine almost gives up on his life, he sees it. A tiny parachute comes flying his way. It makes a tingling sound that Blaine hopes with everything he has the person below doesn't hear. The parachute lands a little higher up on the top corner of the Cornucopia's tail, and Blaine assumes this is the Gamemakers way of making their Games a little more exciting. Not much has happened, he reckons, since Tish has died.

So as the sun rises in – does the sun even rise in the east in the Arena, how artificial is the climate in this weird place? Still, as the sun rises behind him, he starts his climb. He's tired and every bone in his body hurts and is frozen. He manages to stretch the sleeves of his tracksuit over his hands so they don't get injured any more, but he feels the seam at his shoulder rip as he does so.

It's an uncomfortable angle and the point is small, he glides back down a few times and tries his best not to cuss when he does so. Still, after five attempts he reaches the top and is able to grab hold of the parachute. He clamps the edge of the small basket in his teeth and lets himself glide down again.

Beneath him on the ground he hears snow cracking and he stays as still as he can. At least the parachute has stopped making the tingling sound now he's gotten hold of it. He crawls back to his secluded corner and waits for the cracking to stop. It seems like someone is circling the Cornucopia, most likely thinking of what to do next. Blaine curls in on himself tightly, wraps his arms around his legs and hugs them close to his chest. He keeps his ears open to any sounds there might be, and eventually the crisping footsteps in the snow grow distant. Whoever was staying down here has decided to go out and hunt for – people – game?

Blaine peeks around the corner where he's hidden, sees a tall male figure walk towards the pine tree forest behind the Cornucopia. He watches carefully from his corner, until the boy has disappeared deep into the woods. He wishes he knew their names now, knew how he could locate them and know their weaknesses and how to avoid them. He wonders if this guy is one of the surviving Careers, but he guesses not as he is operating on his own. He wishes they weren't so thickly packed in clothes so he could recognize the guy. He is about sure the guy isn't Barse, Barse didn't have an aim so clear it would hit Tish in the gut straight away and he also doesn't think Barse would kill if not absolutely necessary. 

For now he'll assume this is the boy from Six, the only boy apart from Barse, Blaine and the careers who survived. Blaine stays in his secluded corner for ten or twenty minutes, maybe half an hour, longer, before he dares to open the gift that had been sent to him via parachute. Inside he finds a tin can and a note.

Keep warm, keep moving. - C

He opens the tin can enclosed in the parachute and welcomes the smell of broth. For a few tiny seconds Blaine believes it's his mothers, but when he puts the can to his lips and practically laps it up, he knows it's Capitol made. Still, it's in this moment he understands it's still his brother out there who's trying to get him out of the Arena. No other person in the world would have thought of sending him this specific recipe. It's salty, it's got meat and it's liquid. It's warm and it's everything he needs to gather strength to keep moving.

He drinks half the content of the can, then closes it up tightly again and holds it close as he starts descending from the Cornucopia to the waiting snow. He walks around it carefully, tries to find something to wipe his tracks with once he's on his way out of here, when he finds a sleeping back and gloves inside the hood. He grabs the bag, in which Six had obviously been sleeping and rolls it up as tightly as possible. He stuffs the can of soup inside it, hopes the thick layer of wool from the bag will keep the liquid at least a little warm. He finds a rope not far away from the sleeping bag and ties it around it, then throws the entire thing over his shoulder and hauls the rope around his torso to his back, where he ties it up. 

Blaine winces visibly when he tucks the gloves over his hands, makes it a bit more dramatic than it actually is, in hopes to get some medicine send his way. The Sponsors have proven now that they are behind him, sending him warm broth on the first day is not something he's ever seen sponsors do before. 

Grabbing two knives that were left behind, he starts towards the lake. He's not sure why, but he thinks the lake would be the safest now. He assumes everyone has gone around to the trees to find shelter, and Cooper has told him to keep moving. The lake seems the easiest place to do that. He walks and walks, ignores the stinging that starts in his hands now blood starts flowing better again. He's afraid of what he'll find in the blisters when he'll take of the gloves. He doesn't know if it was a good move to warm them up under his armpits the night before, hopes he had washed them properly before entering the Arena and won't catch an infection from there.

As he walks towards the lake, he looks around him. The entire Arena seems deserted, and the gruesome ambiance seems only to intensify with that realization. There hasn't been any sound of birds or animals since Six has left the Cornucopia. All Blaine can hear is the crispy sound of his boot in fresh snow and his own lungs making a squeaky sound as the shrill air around him fills them. He hadn't noticed until now, until he started moving, that the air is so thick with coldness. He wonders how any of the others are holding up.

Even in the bright afternoon sun, Blaine can feel his nose starting to freeze. The tears the cold forces out of the corners of his eyes freeze before they get the chance to fall, his lips are dry and chapped from just the temperature and his entire face hurts from the sharp wind hitting against it. He keeps walking, keeps moving, makes sure his blood keeps flowing.

He does reach the lake after a long walk, much longer than he had anticipated. Or so, he thinks. There's no way other than the sun disappearing behind the trees across the lake that indicate the time. And then still, he has no idea what here is real and what is Capitol coordinated. For all he knows the days only last five hours in the Arena.

As the sun sets, Blaine makes the decision to walk around the lake and disappear into the forest as far as possible. It's slightly uphill and he wonders if he'll even find shelter or water up there, but getting as far away from the center of the Arena seems like the best plan he has. Or just the only plan. His brain is cold, frozen, he can't think straight anymore.

He keeps walking, dragging his feet through the snow and eventually he holds up on the trees. He's rounded the lake fully now and the trees are getting thicker. He hears birds whispering and sees the moon shine bright between the tops. Five more minutes, he thinks to himself, five more minutes until I stop. He drags, drags, walks on further than he can and when he's just about to give up and settle in for the night -

“Blaine?”

Her voice is soft and small, the big blond curls are gone and in it's place is a tight ponytail. She's tugged completely inside her coat, has nothing on her other than that and she's white as a sheet. When Blaine looks at her fingers they're completely blue, her little finger on her right hand has already turned black and though Blaine wishes he didn't, he knows it means there's no means of saving it. All they can do is wait for it to fall off.

You, me or Pennie.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, maybe a bit harshly, and she sucks in a sharp breath as he does. He crouches down next to her. “I have some warm broth, or at least it was warm when I left the Cornucopia. We can share it?”

“Why?” She asks.

“Because I want to. I need a friend, and it looks like you could use some help.”

“Why don't you just kill me now?”

“Pennie, I'm not going to kill you sweetheart. I don't want to kill anyone. What do you say we just stick together and warm up?”

The girl doesn't have much fight left in her, nods silently and scoots over under the large tree she was hiding to make place for Blaine next to her. She helps him untie the sleeping bag from his back, and holds the can that falls out of it in her little hands to warm them up.

“Have people passed here?” Blaine asks her and she shakes her head.

“No one has passed me since the cannons started announcing deaths. Do you know who that cannon after the anthem was for?”

“Tish,” Blaine nods curtly. It hurts to say her name, hurts even more to think that he'll have to watch her face and only her face up in the sky in a few minutes when the anthem will start again. 

“I'm sorry,” Pennie says and squeezes Blaine's hand. 

“Thank you,” Blaine says softly, remembering Tish's wide and empty eyes, “Barse is still out there somewhere, do you know where he is?”

Again, she shakes her had in denial. Blaine takes the tin can from her and cricks it open. He takes a few sips for himself before handing it to her .

“Drink up,” he says, “it's broth, it'll help you warm up and strengthen up. We need to keep moving.”

“I don't want to move,” she replies with a tiny voice, “no one has passed me here, I think we're safe here.”

“To keep warm,” Blaine replies, “we have to keep moving to keep warm and keep our blood flowing.”

Pennie merely shrugs, takes large gulps of the broth Blaine shared with her and crawls in on herself once she is finished with it. It's obvious she doesn't want to leave this space and Blaine understands, or so he thinks. She hasn't seen anyone but Blaine since she took off from her platform at the Cornucopia and she now associates this spot with safety. He looks around, the forest is much darker at night than the open field where he'd spend the previous night, he has a sleeping bag and gloves and weapons. The Arena has been eerily silent since Tish's death and so maybe it isn't a bad idea to give his legs some rest after the long walk he'd taken to get to where he is now.

“Okay,” he relents to Pennie, “we'll sleep here and we'll move tomorrow. We need to get to fresh water and some food. Maybe try and find a secluded place where we can start a fire. You can help me with that, right? You were so good with the basic survival skills in training, I need you to start a fire then.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he agrees and grabs the sleeping bag to open it up and climb inside. He beckons for Pennie to join him. They're both small people, her more so than him, but tucked tightly together inside the thing, they share body heat and will manage to keep warm throughout the night. Around them they hear soft crisps of where maybe rats or mice are moving, Blaine assumes he should hunt them to get some food but doesn't dare to disturb Pennie, who's sleeping soundly against his chest.

He closes his eyes, tries to ignore the images of Tish's blood and empty eyes that overflow his mind as soon as he shuts them, tries not to see the spear that had been pierced through her body. He buries his head as far in his hood as possible, thinks of silver lines surrounding deep, green and gray eyes. He thinks of Cooper's wavy locks and Quinn's blonde curls. His mother's tight, brown bun and his father's hazel eyes. He thinks of Tish's empty eyes and Tish's blood. Everything he sees; Tish's empty eyes and Tish's clear, red blood in the otherwise white, unblemished snow. Tish's smile and determined posture. Tish emerging from the snow, her talent for disguising herself. Her blue, cold nose and her eyes widening when she spotted Blaine atop the Cornucopia. Everything he sees, everything he dreams is about her tonight. His body tosses and trashes as well as it can, locked in the bag with Pennie pressed close to him, he dreams about her. About the girl who won't return home to her mother, who's parents are now grieving. His fifth grade teacher, her mother, they lost her. He lost her.

He lost her, and soon the anthem starts. Pennie moves in her sleep, but doesn't wake and so Blaine is left alone to watch her face up in the sky. Now everyone in the Arena knows it was Tish who died right after the deaths were announced yesterday. Yesterday, it's been a day since he's lost Tish. He takes his time to grieve his District's girl, before he slumbers with Pennie close against his chest. 

When the sound of a cannon wakes him, Tish's name is on his lips. 

Blaine looks around, there's a faint light glowing through the trees but it can't be much later than seven in the morning. The air around them is still cold, and though sharing a sleeping bag and body heat with Pennie has helped them both to survive the night, it's still so cold Blaine's entire body shivers and he's hurting to his bones. He knows he needs to move, needs to set his joints and blood flow in motion again before he literally freezes to death.

The Arena is still grimly quiet, no sign of life other than a few birds chirping above them. The silence around them makes every fiber in Blaine's being anxious. Something about this Arena is off, something isn't right. There had been too many deaths at the bloodbath and not enough since. Just now, out of the blue at the point where he suspected everyone would be resting, a defenseless person died. If they were defenseless at all. He needs to know what's going on, needs to know why everything is so quiet.

“Let's pack up and start moving,” Blaine says to Pennie, “we'll find some firewood and start a fire.”

“How many are there left?”

“You, me, Barse and five others.” 

“Eight? Just eight left? Wow, I thought I'd die before the top ten.”

“Yeah, you did well Pennie. You're in the top eight.” Blaine starts moving out the sleeping back, then urges Pennie out and starts rolling the thing up. He ties the rope around it tightly again, before tying it around his back. He tucks his hands in his coat pockets and urges Pennie to take the gloves. They're too big on her, but at least she'll have something to keep her fingers warm. They start moving, slowly, because Pennie complains about her toes hurting and Blaine's afraid they're just as far gone as her little finger. She's a burden, mostly, but Blaine can't leave her behind. If anything, he needs her to start a fire, he doesn't know how to do so on his own.

She gathers firewood along the way. It's mostly tiny twigs and small pieces of wood, she says it's better if Blaine cuts that off with his knife once they've found a place to start the fire. They shouldn't drag the heavy things along. Blaine agrees, remains at the lead of their two man pack and walks as deep into the forest as possible, as far away from the open field as he can possibly get before starting the fire. He thinks it's best if they start paying closer attention to animals, too, but he hasn't seen much other than birds yet and there's no way he can kill birds with just the throw knives he has. His stomach is clenching, begging for Blaine to get something solid inside it but he has to survive without for now.

It's strange, how all the sensations together don't just make him want to give up the way Pennie begs him to give up.

“Here, Blaine,” she says, “we can sit down here and start the fire. It's a perfect place.”

“No,” he answers determined, “we're going as far away from the field as we can get.”

She follows him obediently, groans with every step she takes as they walk further and further away from any life they heard. The trees get thicker and the day seems to get darker with it, though it can't be much later than ten in the morning. Blaine takes his steps with force, tries to encourage Pennie with just his step as he walks. He hums a sweet, familiar song softly and it doesn't take long for Pennie to giggle a little and hum along. They hum for a while, and then Blaine starts singing and Pennie sings along.

They harmonize easily, Pennie is quite a good singer. They sing and laugh and walk, sing, laugh and walk, sing, laugh and -

“Pennie?”

“Blaine!”

“Pennie!?”

“Blaine, I can't -”

He rushes to her where she collapsed. She's breathing heavily, her eyes are glazed and she looks around hazily. He hadn't noticed until now she'd lost one of the gloves and the twigs she had been collecting are splayed around her.

“My legs,” she says, “I can't feel my legs anymore.”

“What happened?”

“I don't know,” she cries, “I think I just collapsed. Or maybe I tripped. I can't remember.”

“Shh,” Blaine whispers, “it's okay honey, we'll camp here for the day. I think we're far enough.”

They're not nearly far enough. He still sees trees ahead, they could have walked on for a few kilometers before they would have reached the edge of the forest, but he can't leave this little girl here. So he ignores all his instincts and unties the sleeping bag from his bag. He unfolds it and helps Pennie into it. 

“You stay here and watch our stuff,” he says, handing her one of the knives, “I'll go get some thick branches to keep our fire going.”

He goes off to cut some branches, cuts some bark of the trees and he fills the tin can with the top layer of snow. He reckons it's best to melt the snow and warm it up a little, maybe boil it to clean it, before drinking it. The entire time he's away from Pennie he waits for the cannon to sound, waits for someone to pop up from behind the trees and shoot an arrow through his gut.

Nothing comes. He's met with silence, only silence and nothing but silence. It's not right, nothing about this place feels right and though it might have to do with being in an Arena where he's supposed to fight to death, he feels in his very core that something more is going on. Gathering the supplies under his arms, he heads back to where he left Pennie behind.

Getting there, he's happy to see she's started without him. She's used the knife he left with her to transform one of the twigs to a fire-making device. She takes one of the bigger branches from Blaine, inspects if it's dry enough when she approves, starts digging a small hole into it with the knife. She instructs Blaine to get some pine needles from the trees to put in the hole she's digging and curses the forest for not having proper leaves. Blaine's not sure why, or what to say to her. He's not even sure if what she's doing or saying makes sense at all, since she seems a bit out of it and confused still.

Eventually she grabs the pointy twig and puts it atop the pine needles and smaller twigs in the hole, puts both her hands at the top of the twig and starts rolling it between her fingers. She does this two times, three times, four times before she drops it and screams out in agony. She cries, yelps and throws her hands over her head as if getting them as far away from her as possible would help the aching. Blaine looks up, sees the blackness of her little finger has extended to two fingers next to it, and on the other hand the palm had gone so cold, or dry, it's now bleeding where the twig had rubbed against it. 

Still, as she's screaming out in agony Blaine notices her legs aren't moving or trashing the way he had expected them too. Was she actually right, does she really have no feeling in them anymore? She doesn't seem to notice the lack in movement in other parts of her body, her hands the main focus. After a minute of screaming, which Blaine prays to Gods he doesn't believe in won't attract other tributes to their site, she lowers her hands and wipes the tears on her face with the back of the bleeding hand.

“You have to … -” she starts, but Blaine has already grabbed the twig in his hands and put it on the wood board. He puts his hands flat around it and starts twirling it around in his hands quickly. He moves his hands up and down, tries to create enough friction for a flame to start, ignores the painful blisters on his hand as good as he can. He manages a tiny puff of smoke before Pennie puts her hand on top of Blaine's.

“You're bleeding,” she whispers, and surely the blisters have burst open and blood is now covering his hands. The blood is thin, streaming freely and as he watches it flow the pain seems to register in his brains. It probably would have been better if Pennie hadn't stopped him, he could have ignored the pain longer and he'd have managed to build a fire. Now, though, now he's seen his hands broken open and raw with dry blood. He wonders what the temperature around him is, that his blood seems to freeze so quickly. 

Tiny drops fall in the white snow below them, his blood mixing with Pennie's until they can't tell apart which drops are whose anymore. Blaine glares at the branches angrily, as if just his stare might light them. He crawls close to Pennie, puts an arm around her and holds her close. She's shivering all over, her teeth are clattering together and she keeps crying and apologizing. She keeps saying it's her fault, and sorry Blaine, you would have been better off without me. You should just kill me and go on, I'm useless.

Blaine tells her no, tells her he'll stay with her until she can walk again. He knows she won't, not if they can't warm her up. If they don't start a fire somehow soon, he knows she'll freeze to death. He takes off his coat and wraps it around her shivering shoulders, ignores the sharp wind slapping against his skin where the seam of his tracksuit ripped. He crawls close to her, covers her head with the hood of his jacket, and pulls her to his chest.

He keeps his ears focused on the environment, while he strokes his hand up and down Pennie's arm. She keeps talking to him for a short while, but eventually her speech becomes gibberish and soon after that her gibberish just disappears. Her breathing regulates between shallow and heavy sighs, she doesn't respond to Blaine's words anymore, and when she slumps in his arms completely he knows this is another girl he'll have to say goodbye to soon.

He tries not to hold her too close, reckons the closer he holds her, the harder it will be to let her go. About five times he thinks she's gone, but the cannon doesn't sound and she inhales deeply before continuing her shallow breathing pattern. The sixth time he waits for the deep breath, the frown on her face before shallowly breathing again, but the sixth time it doesn't come. 

It's as if the cannon for Pennie echoes louder around the Arena than any of the other cannons have so far. She's limp in his arms, wearing his coat and with her legs in his sleeping bag. He closes his eyes for a short second, swallows back tears and composes himself, before he starts working. He needs to be quick, he strips Pennie's lifeless body of his coat and sleeping bag, grabs the one glove that's lying next to her and ties the bag around his torso and waist again. When he hears the hovercraft approaching, he knows he needs to move.

He's not sure why, but he decides to move towards the lake for now. He needs to get away from the place where he lost Pennie to the cold. His footsteps in the snow make a crisp sound again, and aside from his breathing it's the only sound he hears. The air around him is cold, though it seems to get a little better with every step he takes. In his head, meanwhile, he counts tributes. With Pennie gone there are just seven of them - 

Boom!

Six of them left. 

He keeps walking to the beat of names and numbers in his head, keeps walking until it's dark and another day has gone by. The air around him isn't as sharp or cold as it was anymore, though the wind still hurts the open wounds in his palm. He doesn't reach the lake until the moon is completely overhead and it has to be midnight. The Arena is still quiet, he hasn't come across a soul and tributes are dying one by one, rather than in battles. 

He about to settle down in his sleeping bag just before the anthem starts playing and shows him who the two cannons throughout today have been for. Of course, Pennie's face will be up as well, but she'll be last. High up in the sky a picture of the female tribute from District 1 is displayed, then the girl from Seven and eventually Pennie. He repeats the list of Tributes in his head, takes these three off it and realizes there's no more pairs now. The only female still alive is the one from District 2, the others he still needs to face are all male. He recites the five of them in his head as a list of simple numbers. Even Barse, the only one he does know by name, becomes a simple number. He keeps repeating it, as a mantra, first the numbers of the tributes he still needs to survive and then the list of people he'll get back to.

Pennie died from hypothermia and Blaine has a vague suspicion that's how the girls from One and Seven got to their deaths as well. 

He chuckles slightly, thinks of how bored the people from the Capitol must be. Day two is coming to its end and there haven't been any fights. The Arena is quieter than any Arena has probably ever been before and everywhere Tributes are just trying to stay warm. He wonders if the Careers are even still together, or planning on killing anyone if they come across them. There's only three Careers left, the two boys from One and Four and the girl from Two. No matter if they decide to kill someone, Blaine decides it's best to avoid them at all costs.

For now, though, with the moon shining bright above him, he decides it's time to rest. 

As soon as he rolls out the sleeping bag, he hears the same tingling sound he'd heard atop the Cornucopia. He looks around to locate it, follows the tiny parachute until it settles not that far away from him in the snow. He doesn't even need to climb a tree to retrieve it. The tingling sound stops as soon as Blaine's hand is on the can and the Arena turns silent again. Blaine settles in the snow where he grabs the parachute and opens it. Inside is a note, again from Cooper.

A special someone told me this will heal your hands pretty quick. - C

Inside, he finds a little cream pot he recognizes from somewhere and when he opens it, the silver cream immediately clears it up. Kurt. 

Suddenly, just looking at the silver cream inside the pot makes it feel as if Kurt is right next to him. Or maybe it's because the cream smells like Kurt. He applies it to his hands generously and the effect immediately soothes him. He tugs it away in the glove he took with him, then tugs the glove inside the sleeping bag and settles himself for the night.

He buries his face in his hands, pretends it's just to be comfortable when in reality he wants to smell Kurt in everything he can. Smelling Kurt is an amazing medicine, not just for his hands and the blisters on them, but for his mind as well. Closing his eyes against the images of the Arena by night, he lets images of Kurt's flawless face flood his mind. He practically moans when he presses the palm of one hand against his lips and it almost feels as if Kurt's lips are on his again. 

The chestnut hair with silver streaks, he sees them and wishes he'd had more time to tangle his hands in them. He imagines kissing those lips properly, rather than just a desperate hard press. Wishes he could map Kurt's mouth with his own, maps Kurt's skin with his mouth. Hold him close and whisper sweet nothings. He imagines running his hands up and down Kurt's pale, strong arms, imagines them wrapped around him. 

He hadn't even thought of Kurt that way, not when he was busy training and trying to learn how to survive. Not when he'd been desperately trying to figure out his talent and now when he was so sure he'd ruined any chance of getting a high rating. Not when his rating had been so terrible, he'd been the worst Tribute of them all. He hadn't thought of Kurt's lip the way he's thinking of them right now. He hadn't even really thought of Kurt's lips like that when he'd pressed them hard to his own, it was just an urge he hadn't been able to suppress. 

Still, now he smells Kurt in his hands and he sees Kurt's face at the forefront of his mind, he realizes he'd been attracted to him the moment he'd turned around and introduced himself. He was drawn to Kurt in a way where he knew they would get along. He may have blamed it on their musical connection at first, but he knows now there was something else, something more.

It's amazing, too, how quickly he had accepted everything about Kurt. His talent for designing, the fact his mother's death had hurt him so bad he stopped singing. He's accepted Kurt's tiny worries without a doubt, it was Kurt who made him accept the difference between Capitol people and District people weren't something Kurt could do anything about. He wonders if Kurt feels the same way, it's not like Kurt had any chance to react or respond before Blaine had to go off into the Arena.

And oh dear Lord, if he dies, what will Kurt think? Can he ever tell Kurt what he feels or will he even have the time to figure out completely what it is he feels. He knows Kurt's special, realizes he's important when just his smell can put his mind at ease the way it does. He's in an Arena full of threats and death around the corner, but with this physical reminder of Kurt's existence somewhere else, he feels completely safe and comfortable. 

With Kurt on his mind, his smell on his hands, he finds a vivid dream of silver lines, silver streaks and silver clothes. Pink, lush lips and green-gray eyes. Kurt smiles at him, doesn't say a word but takes his hand. Blaine braces himself but Kurt's hand is soft and gentle, doesn't hurt his palms in the slightest. Together they walk through a forest that's bright with the sun overhead. It's warm where they walk, the leafs crisp under their feet and Kurt's hand in his own remains a solid safety. Blaine walks straight ahead while looking sideways, only ever looking at Kurt.

The paleness of his skin, the long neckline which was so comforting to cry into, the curve of his lips. They all equal absolute and utter perfection, something Blaine wants to tell Kurt but he doesn't dare break the palpable silence. It's a precious calmness he doesn't want to let go, not in the beautiful forest with this serene bliss surrounding them.

It's Kurt, eventually, who breaks the silence. When he turns his head towards Blaine, something about him looks funny. His mouth doesn't match his face and at the side of it two white fangs point out of it, and then Blaine notices his eyes are a deep, dark brown instead of the silver-green he'd expected to see. Kurt opens his mouth to speak, to say something, but out comes a low, rumbled growl -

Blaine scrambles up from his spot under the tree as soon as he wakes. In his haste to get out of where he is, to run away from the pack of wolves gathered not more than twenty meters away from him, he trips over his feet inside the sleeping bag. He crawls out of it as effortlessly as possible, then starts running in the thick snow. The wolves, mutts he assumes, run after him. First it's one, then it's two and soon there are five wolves on his tale. 

They howl as they run, and they're getting closer and closer the farther Blaine runs. They're faster than he is, practically flying over the snow. They're made to outrun him, made to hunt him down and rip him apart. Still, he won't give up without a fight. He won't give the Capitol the satisfaction of single-handedly killing him. He runs, runs until his lungs give out and runs even farther than that. 

When his pace slows just a tiny bit, the wolves start surrounding him. Before long one grabs hold of his leg. He doesn't stop, keeps running and shakes the sharp mouth off himself. The wolves keep biting in his direction, but he flails with his arms and makes sure his legs keep moving as to not be an easy target. He runs until his legs start seizing up and even then he knows he needs to do something.

His mind races the same way it did when he was scanning the Arena at the countdown before the bloodbath. He stops at nothing, keeps moving while he thinks up a plan, ignores the pain when a wolf manages to grab his upper arm, he simply shakes the animal off and when another comes at him from the other side it's like he's slapped with reality, feeling the knife heavy in his pocket. He grabs for it, manages to hold it and waves his arm vaguely in the direction of where the wolf comes towards him. He hits bulls eye right away, slitting the wolf's throat with no mercy.

The wolf hits another one as he falls, giving Blaine a full empty flank on his right where he does the first thing he can and grabs the bark of a tree. He climbs it like a monkey, loses his boot to the sharp teeth of a wolf biting at it, but he's at the top of the tree before the three remaining wolves can get to more of him.

He stays in the top of the pine tree, looking down at the wolves circling it. He's not comfortable, but he manages to sit down on a bigger branch and steady himself. He's got nothing on him anymore, all his supplies left at his resting place.

The wolves below him howl to the top of the tree and when Blaine has caught his breath and gets to chance to get a good look at them, his suspicions get confirmed immediately. Their eyes are too human, too full of evil and murder to be mere hunger and animal. They're bigger than usual wolves, or so he reckons, and they keep circling the tree when Blaine believes any ordinary animal would have continued their hunt elsewhere. 

Around him, high up in the tree, he notices the day around him has gone light again and he also notices the air around him is warmer than the day before. It's still cold, but not the sharp sting against every exposed bit of skin that made it impossible to focus on anything else. Now he has time for that, he isn't too cold anymore and immediately he notices the empty feeling in his stomach, the head ache coming up and the thick feeling of dehydration in his veins. 

His arm is dripping blood where the wolf had grabbed him, the sleeve of it ripped even more than it had been before. The wounds are deep and painful, and Blaine has nothing to treat them with. Even if the wolves would leave him alone and he'd had a chance to get out of this tree and back to his supplies, he's not sure he would make it. He's severely injured, hasn't eaten since the broth he'd shared with Pennie and the broth is simultaneously the last fluid he got into his system. 

It might be a bit warmer around him, but not warm enough by far to get out of risk of hypothermia either and so he knows, this tree will be where he spends his last moments. Hiding from mutations of the Capitol, murderous beasts programmed to kill any tribute they come across. Blaine feels faint, wonders if maybe he should just let himself slip and fall out the tree to be devoured by the wolves. Hopes it will be quick and brute, hopes his cannon will sound within seconds of his fall. Maybe the fall alone will kill him, maybe he won't even feel the mutts tearing him apart.

And then he thinks of the images he's seen before, tributes being torn apart by giant beasts, arms ripped off and heads rolling over the ground. He's seen it before in games and he knows none of them have done it willingly, none of them did it to get their deaths over with quickly. No matter how injured, how certain of their loss they were, they never gave in to mutts. And when he sees the images, he also immediately knows why they never did. It wasn't because they were still desperately hoping to win, it wasn't because they thought to have a chance once surviving the mutts. 

It was because of them, the list of people in his head that made him fight so far. Maybe fighting isn't an option anymore, but he can't show them he's given up. Most of all, he can't let them watch his body being torn apart. He needs to die atop this tree, needs to die here and stay here. The hovercraft collecting his body, it needs to collect his entire body and not several detached parts of him. His mother can't see her son being ripped to pieces like that, his father can't watch that and comfort her, he won't be able to. Cooper and Quinn, they can't watch their Tribute lying on the cold, wet snow and Kurt can't be watching this. His last memory needs to be something graceful, something worthy of Kurt's tears and smile. Kurt needs to be proud of him, proud of the way he'll die instead of horrified.

“Rope,” he says out loud, “I need rope.”

It's happened before, Tributes with a lot of sponsors, or with one extremely rich sponsor, getting what they need just ten minutes after they need it. He waits, looks around for a parachute to appear but it doesn't. He holds steady on the thick branch he's seated himself on and ignores the pain shooting through his wounded upper arm. At least his palms are healed, at least he can hold on tightly without that pain hindering him. The sleeve of his right arm is soaked in blood, and he's starting to get dizzy. 

No parachute arrives.

However, below him the wolves change course when two tributes emerge from the woods not too far away from Blaine. Blaine immediately recognizes Barse and when the girl with him gets her head ripped off by one of the wolves, he can hardly hear the cannon that sounds for her by the ringing witnessing the horror starts in his ear. His mind goes in overdrive, as he sees her being torn apart and eaten, limb by limb the wolves devour her. Her. 

She's fallen, the last female tribute has fallen. There's something sad about it, something final. This year's tribute will most certainly be male. Blaine's vision starts spinning and he holds onto the branch tightly as he almost loses his balance. This year's tribute will be male and it won't be Blaine Anderson. His sight gets worse, keeps spinning and turns blurry as he tries to see with happens to Barse and the wolves. 

Barse runs, runs fast and manages to outrun them when he spurts onto the ice of the lake. The wolves howl from the edge, but don't cross the line onto the frozen water. Barse looks around, decides to keep running until a large crack divides the ice in two separate parts. Where Barse stands, a large gap appears. He holds his legs on either side of the partition as long as he physically can, but eventually he has to let go and he falls straight into the water. As soon as he's under, the cannon startles Blaine and he loses his tight grip on the branch. He falls down, down, down the tree, through the branches. He cuts his cheek on a pine hits his head on a larger branche and everything goes black.

He comes too when the sun is overhead, telling Blaine it's midday. The lake ahead is frozen over again, indicating a few days have passed since Blaine fell out the tree. It takes a while before he registers what woke him, a voice announcing through the Arena. 

“Dear Tributes, each of you are facing death by hypothermia. If you wish to survive this Arena, your supplies will be waiting at the Cornucopia. Good luck.

Hypothermia, the biggest threat of all. Blaine inspects his boot-less foot, his little toe is a dark purple already and the other four are a bloodless white. The wound on his arm seems to be slightly infected, though it could be worse, but mostly he is dehydrated and cold. His teeth are clattering the way Pennie's were at first as well. Snow is falling slowly still, it almost seems like a tribute to president Snow, this typical Arena. 

Blaine scrambles up, looks around to see if maybe he can find his boot, but the wolf either threw it away too far or the Gamemakers have made it disappear. What he does notice, however, is a large parachute under the tree he fell out of, and he grabs it quickly.

Told you I'd come through for you, get strong for the finale. - C

Inside he finds a large loaf of bread from their own District, the kind he told Kurt was his favorite. He eats up eagerly, while searching the other contents of the sponsor's gift. There's another tin filled with the silver cream, which he puts on his arm and the cut on his cheek. There's a bottle inside as well, not filled with anything but he scoops up the top layer of snow, which he knows is clean, and bottles it up. He tucks the bottle inside his tracksuit, tight to his chest where the little amount of body heat he still has will melt the snow so he can drink it up soon enough. 

He finds his knife not far away from where he fell, and gets up to start his walk towards the Cornucopia. He makes a detour via his hiding place from the before he was changed by giant wolves, hopes to find his sleeping bag and other supplies, but they're all gone. Robbed by another tribute or taken away by the Gamemakers, he doesn't know. He gets to the Cornucopia easily, decides to hide in the woods to see what the others do before he goes in for his supplies.

There's four bags on the table in front of it, each marked with an obvious number. 1, 4, 6 and 9. Just those four Tributes are left and each of them face death by hypothermia. Death the way Pennie died in Blaine's arms. It didn't even seem that bad, much better than being torn apart and beheaded by wolves, or drowning in an ice cold lake. 

The first tribute to walk towards the Cornucopia is a large boy. He walks with a limp, though differently than Blaine's bootless limp. He walks slowly, obviously thinks he's alone and the rest are dying somewhere. He grabs the bag with the 6 on it confidently and when he turns around, an arrow hits straight through his gut the same way the spear hit Tish. Blaine looks in the direction the arrow came from and sees another boy run towards the Cornucopia.

When the boy grabs all four bags, Blaine sighs in defeat and turns to walk away, as far away from anyone with that kind of aim as quick as he can. Suddenly, he's startled by loud bangs that sound like gunshots and turns around to see that boy, too, lying on the snow lifelessly. The cannon sounds once, and Blaine knows the thief is dead. In the distance, in front of the Cornucopia he sees two bodies. One lifeless, one contracting in pain.

The lifeless body is surrounded by each of their bags and Blaine assumes the Gamemakers hadn't liked him taking all their gifts, needed the Tributes all to get their fire making gear. Or thick blankets, or what it is inside those bags that was intended to warm up. He guess it backfired, both on the tributes and the Gamemakers. Two dead in their attempt to rile the Games up a bit.

Two dead. That means, Blaine remembers with a halt, there's only one left. It's only him and the boy from Four or One now. Only Blaine and a career and one of them will win. Blaine feels the bread in his coat pocket, the snow-filled bottle against his chest. It doesn't feel cold, he suddenly thinks. The bottle feels warm, if anything and when Blaine takes it out his hands warm up immediately. 

They sent him a self-boiling water bottle. In his haste to get to the Cornucopia, while watching the fight go down there, he hadn't felt it. He remembers now, as if he registered it to realize later, the soft sound of water boiling, the bottle rattling against his chest. As soon as there's water in this bottle, it boils to a heating point to kill any bacteria and diseases in there. This must be the most expensive gift a non-career has ever gotten. 

He opens it quickly, drinks up as much of the warm water as he can. It's hot, it tastes like nothing and it's the most welcome warmth he's ever felt. For a second he considers walking away from the Cornucopia, surviving on hot water and bread alone, but he knows he needs to fire supplies. That, and medicine for the infection in his arm. Especially now he's lost his sleeping bag, he needs something to survive the night with. He fills his bottle again quickly, tucks it away to let it be boiled again, before heading towards the battlefield. 

The body of the boy from Six is still convulsing, trying very hard to die, when he walks towards both of them. Tish's body had long been picked up now so Blaine assumes the Gamemakers want him to see the dead body up close. Want him to pry his own bag out of the corps's hands. He recognizes the boy from District 1. It's just Blaine and Four now. 

He tries to avoid the blood soaked snow, especially with his sock clad foot, ignores when the red becomes more than the white and bends over the body. He closes the eyelids first, refuses to look into the empty death present there. He grabs his own bag and turns around.

He drops his bag immediately again, falls back as Four's boy stands over him. He's a tall boy, much bigger than Blaine and his eyes scream murder. Blaine knows he's gone for now. Next to him Six's body is still not giving up, though the body is still now and slowly bleeding out. He knows the next two cannons are ready in the Capitol. Knows they will ring within the hour, understands that it's going to be either for Blaine or for this boy from District 4 that the champagne will be popped. And right now, with his sock clad foot and a guy twice as broad as him, the odds aren't really in his favor. 

The boy's fingers slip around his throat and lift him up, cutting off the air in his lungs with an iron grip. The fingers are cold, though, and shivering and Blaine can see in the boys eyes that he is weak. It's strange, how quickly Blaine can think when his vision already starts to blur, and his mind to haze. Even with shortage of oxygen, Blaine knows he only has one chance to get out of this. He grabs the water bottle from his coat and pours the now boiling hot water over the boys hands. 

It hits Blaine's throat just as hard and he feels the blisters forming, but at least he can breathe now. The boy, Four as Blaine calls him in his head, growls angrily as he inspects his hands, before he lunges towards Blaine again. This time, though, Blaine is prepared and throws the water in his face.

The blisters form immediately, as the boy screams all the air out his lungs into the Arena. The silence around them seems different when he stops, disturbed and ready to be broken again. That's when the cannon sounds for the boy from Six, whose body finally gives out and slips away. For a short moment both Four and Blaine look at the body and then they know. They understand, they get it.

They're here, at the Cornucopia, surrounded by the last two tributes who died before the big finale. This is it, this is the end. The blistered face makes Four only scarier than he was before. Through half closed eye lids, he watches Blaine up and down and then grabs his throat again. He squeezes it closed, it hurts Blaine more than before because of the burned skin he has there now himself. The boy puts his face close to Blaine's, hisses in his face and tightens his grip even more.

“Only one of us is getting out of here, brother, and I'll squeeze your delicate little throat until I'm sure it's me.”

Blaine gasps for air, flails his arms around and in a flash remembers. Four is too busy hissing threats into Blaine's face to notice him putting his hand in his pocket and before the boy notices anything is off, he grabs the knife and drives it deep into his gut. Four gasps, his hand slips just a little, allowing Blaine to suck in a deep breath. Soon enough the hand is back tightly around his painful throat. Blaine takes the knife out of his enemy's stomach and drives it in again, harsher this time, and a little higher. He repeats the motion several times, stabbing his opponent as many times as he can.

“Just – die,” he croaks out through his throat, to which Four growls “you just die” back to him. They stay like that for a long time, even when Four's knees give way, he keeps his hand locked around Blaine's throat. Blaine goes down with him, stabbing him high between his ribs one last time before everything around him starts spinning. He understands from now on it's just a matter of who dies first. He sees the blistered face close to his, bared teeth and tired eyes. He falls to the ground, his fingers slipping from Blaine's throat. Blaine sucks in a sharp breath before he, too, falls to the ground and loses consciousness. 

When he wakes later, everything around him is bright. There's a light overhead, but it isn't the sun and he isn't lying on the cold snow anymore. He's wrapped tight in a blanket, unable to move his legs or arms, and even his throat is locked with some sort of collar. He doesn't feel any pain, just a bit hazy and his vision is blurry, still. He looks around the room and locates a silver blob to his right.

“Welcome back,” Kurt's warm voice greets him, “and congratulations. You won the 73rd Hunger Games.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update 3rd January 2015. Find me on tumblr under beatlebun.tumblr.com and please comment or send me a message, I always love to hear your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 3

The first time he wakes up, the time where Kurt greets and congratulates him, is short lived. He thinks someone holds his hand and he thinks it's Kurt. Kurt is the only one in the room, after all. Yet he can't be sure. Everything feels strange, off, he wants to cry and move but he can't. Medicine are keeping him calm, the collar around his neck makes his throat unable to make any sound and his arms and legs are bound to the bed as well.

Maybe, just maybe, Kurt's soft thumb strokes his hand timidly, but it can also be his imagination. It's what he wants, some comfort in the form of touch and imagining it is just as good. Kurt doesn't say much else, he remains a silver blob in Blaine's vision. He explains briefly what happened after he fell unconscious in the Arena, but Blaine needs to ask again later. He doesn't register it, doesn't understand a word Kurt says. It's all vague jabber in his mind, almost as if Kurt speaks a different language entirely and then he slips under again.

The second time he wakes up he finds just healers around him, two are messing with a tube that goes into his arm and a third is applying thick cream on all his injured places. His legs are out of their bounds, his arms still in. He moves his fingers, wiggles his toes and tries to speak but gets hushed immediately. One of the healers leans over him and looks him in the eye. She has pink hair, pink lashes, and Blaine can see her clearly. His mind is clearer as well. They're waving off the medicine. He wonders how long he's been under for.

“Hello Blaine,” the woman says, “the collar will come off in two days, you can speak again when it's off. For now, please rest.”

The healer messing with the tube in his arm grabs a syringe and puts it in the tube, squirts a white substance inside it. It feels a little cold where the medicine enters his vein, but before he can protest or even communicate in any form, he slips into an uncomfortably deep sleep again. This time, though, it's not a dream-free sleep like the ones before. This time he sees everything, relives the Arena inside his mind. 

He sees Tish in a pool of blood, he sees wolves and dead bodies. He trashes, screams but can't reach the bodies. He tries to run but he's held tight in place. He screams out for Tish, then sees Cooper, Quinn and Kurt lying amongst the bodies. He screams for them, screams loud and cries. He's trapped, trapped in place and held together by only the idea they might wake up. They don't.

When he does, however, the third time after he has left the Arena, he finds Cooper at his side. He's alive, Cooper lives. A strange sense of serenity falls over him, he quickly forgets the drugged dream and instead reaches out for Cooper's hand. He can reach out now, his arms are no longer bound to the bed, and Cooper quickly takes it. He kisses it with tears in his eyes, keeps kissing it and Blaine almost laughs at the weirdness of it. He can't, though, the collar is still tight in place around his neck. He can't speak.

“Blaine,” Cooper sobs, “you did it, you did it, you did it.”

Blaine scoots over on the bed, he can do as much now he's completely free of any bounds, and pats on the bed next to him. Please, he thinks, please come into my bed and hold me like you used to ten years ago. Cooper does, understands him like probably only another Hunger Games survivor can, crawls into his baby brother's bed and pulls him as close as he can.

“I'm here,” he whispers in Blaine's ear, “I'm here, always, I'm here.”

Blaine falls asleep again, on his own this time, and dreams of terrible things. There's dead bodies scattered everywhere, he's walking amongst them and he can't do a single thing to help them. They're mangled, missing limbs and some even heads. He wants to do something but every time he bends down he's pulled up by a strange force. So instead he runs, runs away from the bodies, runs away from the torn off limbs and pools of blood.

He runs and he runs, he runs faster and quicker but the body count around him only increases. He keeps running, keeps going, screams until is lungs give out.

“Blaine!”

It's Quinn who wakes him, her hands holding his face steady. “It's just a dream, Blaine,” she says, “shh, it's just a dream.”

He's on his side, facing her. Her thumbs stroke his cheeks softly, motherly even. She looks at him concerned, then sits down on the chair again, one hand leaving him entirely and the other moving to stroke his hair and brow.

“It gets better,” she says, “after a while it gets easier to deal with. Just, don't scream or thrash when the healers are around to hear you. They'll just sedate you, think you're still in pain. You're not in physical pain anymore, are you?”

He tries to focus on what should hurt, his throat from Four's tight fingers? No, it's not hurting in the slightest. The collar is gone, too, he is allowed to talk again. His arm then, where the wolf had pierced its sharp teeth through his skin. Nothing there, not even a scar where he looks at it. He uncurls his hands from the tight balls they were in and inspects them closely. Nothing there, apart from a few red spots where his nails had been digging into them. Quinn is right, none of the pain he's in is physical.

“They don't understand,” she continues after Blaine drops his hands again and his tears start streaming, “they think all we endure in that Arena is physical pain. They don't understand the images, the hurt inside that never leaves. It gets easier, I promise, just don't let them see you hurt.”

“Sing to me?” 

His voice is hoarse, nothing like his own, and as soon as the words are out a strong burn starts up in his throat. He doesn't know how to express the pain, though, other than his face scrunching together. He will need to build it up again, probably, he hasn't spoken since he got out of the Arena and the grip Four had had around his throat had been so tight his vocal chords were most likely damaged.   
Quinn smiles when she sees the pain on his face, keeps stroking his hair and sings.

He falls asleep to the soft sound of her angelic voice, nothing about it indicates the hurt Blaine knows she feels. He knows now, how it really feels. What it is like to be Cooper Anderson, to be Quinn Fabray. To be so damaged by what happened to you, so scarred and lonely, so utterly broken inside. And he's only been awake for maybe thirty minutes all together since he got out.

He doesn't dream about horrors, not this time, Quinn's voice soothing and her presence calming. She remains by his bedside until he wakes up again, and by the time he does she's joined by both Kurt and Cooper. He reckons he didn't sleep for a very long time this time, she's still in exactly the same spot and stroking his hair the way she was when he drifted off. Cooper is clutching his hand and Kurt stands awkwardly behind them.

“Blaine,” Cooper starts, “technically you don't need any health care anymore. Would you be okay with moving back to the quarters to gain your strength before your victory interview with Caesar next week?”

“Please,” Blaine croaks, nothing sounds more welcome than a warm bath in his room and the giant, soft bed. Being enveloped by the thick blankets and a camomile scent. It's everything he wants now, everything he needs. 

As soon as he agrees, Cooper arranges for everything to happen. He's helped up by Quinn and Kurt, Kurt carrying some comfortable clothes for him. He gets out of the gown he was wearing gratefully. Kurt helps him into the sweatpants, shirt and cardigan and then holds out an arm for Blaine to hold onto as he gets out of bed. All the while they don't speak, don't look at each other. Quinn takes his other arm and Blaine leans against her more than he does to Kurt. Everything about her is familiar, her smell and the way she cares. Her eyes shine bright with compassion and empathy, something he knows he won't find in Kurt.

He spends the first two days in bed still, sleeping off the after effects of being pumped full of morphling. The first day his muscles start aching, his body shakes and he feels like he has a fever. Quinn holds him, tells him to get through it. He sleeps, feeling trapped as long as he's under. Nightmares grow worse with every short nap he takes and his voice comes back quicker than he'd expected, because his unconscious mind forces him to scream.

The third day, the fever breaks and the aching subsides. He feels tired, takes a long bath as soon as he wakes up and crawls back into bed. Cooper comes in with breakfast. It's a big bowl full of broth. Blaine takes the bowl from Cooper, looks at it and breaks. He throws it across the room, against the glass wall that sometimes functions as a television. The glass doesn't give or break, but the bowl smashes to the ground in a thousand pieces and the broth splashes across it.

Blaine screams, the loudest he's screamed thus far. He screams Pennie's name, screams for Cooper and Quinn and then for Kurt. He hasn't seen Kurt since they arrived back at their floor, but knows he's there. He's heard his voice outside the room, asking if Blaine was okay. He knows Kurt is designing whatever Blaine will wear to the interview in five days. It's been nine days since he escaped the Arena and he still isn't sure how. Or why Kurt was the one to see him right after. The broth, it had taken him back into the Arena. The only thing besides the bread he'd eaten in there, and he needs to know. He needs to know every last detail and he knows only Kurt and Isabelle have been the ones who were able to watch it all. Knows Quinn and Cooper have hid as much as possible, taking advice from Kurt as to what to do and what to send. They hadn't been able to watch their little Blaine go in and fight the way he did. He needs Kurt, needs Kurt now.

“Kurt!” he yells, “Kurt, help me!”

Kurt comes crashing into the room and the first thing Blaine sees is he looks terrible. It's only been a little over two weeks since he's last seen Kurt, but he has never seen anyone change so much in so little time. Though Kurt probably thinks the same of him. Kurt's eyes are sunken, he's got dark circles under him that indicate lack of sleep and he's paler than Blaine has ever seen him. He's skinnier, too, as if he hasn't eaten since they parted ways. His hair is a ruffled mess, greasy and without product. His clothes are wide, silver, but plain. It's almost as if there's nothing left of the silver man Blaine had taken such a liking to.

“Could you maybe leave us alone?” Blaine asks Cooper, who's looking between the two with wide, questioning eyes. He nods curtly and rushes out of the room, pushing Kurt towards Blaine as he moves past him.

“You asked for me?” Kurt sits down on the bed carefully, almost as if he is afraid to get to close to Blaine. He looks broken, hurt and everything strong in him is gone. Blaine wishes he could rush forward and envelop him in a tight hug, but he's not sure he can. Not sure Kurt would like that. 

“I want to know,” he therefore says, “I remember you told me what happened but I was to drugged up to understand a word you said. I want to know what happened.”

“What .. -”

“Everything,” Blaine says, “I need to know what happened.”

Kurt shrugs, a small grin appears on his face and he seems to relax a little. He scoots closer, really looks at Blaine for the first time.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Right,” Kurt starts, “well, when you entered the Arena, it all looked very promising. Snow, a frozen lake, hardly any real hiding spots. It was supposed to be a very exciting and blood filled year. The bloodbath, it was terrible. For the longest time I thought you were .. - I thought you were d – dead. 

“they showed the fighting faces and you weren't among them. They showed the people running from the Cornucopia and you weren't amongst them either. All I saw was faces that weren't you and scattered bodies, faceless. You had to be one of the faceless, there wasn't any other explanation. But then the bloodbath was over and they zoomed in on the faces. You weren't there either. It was the most confusing thing, until they showed a tiny bundle curled up on the Cornucopia and it was you. It could only be you. We still had no idea where Tish was, but you were safe and it was like I could breathe again.”

Blaine has to remind himself to breath, too, the pain across Kurt's face too much to bear. It's strange, too, how it feels like Kurt is talking about any other Arena than his own. How different it was for him and how scared they all must have been.

“Then Tish showed up, and she got speared and they showed your face up close. It hurt so much, seeing you suffer like that. It broke Quinn, I think, she started acting really strange and distant when it happened. Then Tish died and you were there and it was safe in a way because we knew you knew there was still someone there, so you wouldn't move. And there were fifteen Tributes dead already, just after the bloodbath you got farther than any male Tribute of Quinn and Cooper ever got.

“Then.. a whole lot of nothing, the boy left the Cornucopia, you left there with all the supplies you took and then you found Pennie. Nothing interesting happened, everyone was just hiding in the woods. Actually, most of the Capitol was really bored because everyone was just slowly dying of hypothermia. The girl from Seven, who died right before Pennie, she was killed by an icicle that pierced her stomach. Then Pennie died of hypothermia and after that you mostly know what happened. All of the tributes were frostbitten, the guy with the limp, he actually lost three toes because of it.

“The Capitol was bored, Blaine, no one had killed each other apart from at the blood bath. They were mostly all just waiting to die. They sent those wolves in and went after you first, but you were too smart. It wasn't enough, there were some riots on the square here, people were screaming about wanting blood. They had to finish it quick, so they invited you all to the Cornucopia. We thought you were done for, with the injuries and everything, but Blaine...-”

Kurt sighs his name, looks at him with tear brimmed eyes and grabs his hand without realizing he does. He clutches tightly, smiles wide and chuckles.

“Blaine, you're so smart. Thinking of that water bottle, injuring his hands and he kept going and going and you fell unconscious. We thought you died, but then he fell to the ground to and there was all this blood over both of your stomachs. We couldn't see what had happened, it was all so quick and suddenly they zoom in on this knife sticking out from his chest and the cannon sounds, the anthem starts playing and your face appears on the screen with this giant “victor” written above you. You won and we all cried, we hugged and I think I actually kissed Cooper at some point.”

“I don't feel like a victor,” Blaine admits quietly, to which Kurt reaches out and strokes his cheek with a soft thumb.

“You will, you've been through a lot and you just got out of hospital, you will be fine eventually and you'll know what amazing things you did.”

“I killed someone.”

“You survived someone.”

“Isn't that essentially the same? He's dead because of me.”

Kurt looks at him with wide and tired eyes, unable to respond he pulls Blaine into a tight hug and just like the smell of Kurt's cream in the Arena had soothed him, Kurt's arms around him sooth him now. It's still a bit uncomfortable and simultaneously a very new feeling. Inside Kurt's arms it's as if he finds safety and belonging, the fire inside him settles to a tiny flame. He doesn't ask Kurt about the sponsors, how he managed to do it or how he knew exactly what to get Blaine. Instead, he lets himself be buried in those strong arms and hides from the world for as long as he can.

Which, in retrospect, isn't very long. Before he knows it Isabelle hauls him out of bed and forces him to eat. No more broth, though, they keep the broth and District 9 bread as far away from him as they possibly can. Isabelle keeps beaming at him proudly, tells him how amazing she was and how cool it is that he's a victor who only killed when absolutely necessary for his own survival. 

“I bet you'll be even more loved than Finnick Odair,” she says at one point, to which both Quinn and Cooper choke on their food and change the subject quickly. Kurt keeps looking at him like he's a broken, lost boy and at times Blaine thinks Kurt is as broken and lost himself. They don't talk much, not even when Kurt remeasures him. He's lost weight, the short time in the Arena and the week in the hospital after made him skinnier than before. 

He builds up to the interview with Caesar steadily, practicing with Cooper and eventually agreeing on a joint interview. The Anderson Brothers, victors of the 61st and 73rd Hunger Games. That's who they are now, a unit from District 9. A phenomenon, the first ever siblings to both be victors outside a career District. Cooper and Blaine decide on several subjects, like their childhood and how Cooper being a victor had prepared Blaine for everything (it hadn't). How thankful Blaine is for the incredible team behind him, for Kurt and Isabelle (mostly Kurt).

Eventually it's Quinn who decides Blaine needs some fresh air and, as every other District's quarters has filled out with their tributes dead, she takes him up to Twelve and climbs to the roof with him. Something Haymitch Abernathy has shown her a few years ago, she tells Blaine.

Blaine takes a deep breath as soon as they enter the chilled air and it's then that he realizes, it's the middle of summer. To him, as long as he hadn't been outside the training center building, it still felt like the dead of winter. He couldn't be more wrong about it, the sun is shining and hot overhead. Quinn takes of her cardigan and looks completely carefree in her bright colored sun dress. Her short hair waving softly in the light breeze, her smile beautiful and straight.

There are times where Blaine wonders how anyone could have such a tragic past and still be as beautiful as she is. Her green eyes sparkle in the sunlight, her usually pale shoulders are sun tanned and bare. She seats herself close to the edge of the roof and then warns Blaine to not go any further than she is. It's an electrical field, she says, he'll be knocked backwards harshly before he can even step to the edge of the roof. They way she says it, almost sounds as if she's been tempted to do it before. 

He sits down next to her, crosses his legs and takes a deep breath of fresh air. It's welcome in his lungs, more welcome than any air has ever been. He takes of the cardigan he'd put on against the cold and folds it neatly beside him. They sit in silence for a short ten minutes, until Blaine feels too hot with the bow tie around his throat and takes that off as well. He'd found the bow ties in the top drawer of his nightstand when he got back from hospital. Something the Capitol had added for him, as it had been his token throughout the arena. It's strange, he hadn't for one second even, thought about it while he was in there, but now he likes it. It's as if wearing it shows the Capitol he's better than them, he can defy them and get out of the Arena when he needs to. He's stronger than them.

He places the bow tie on top of the cardigan and catches Quinn looking at it. 

“What was yours?” he asks her, suddenly wanting to know everything he can about her Games.

“I had a tiara, it was my grandmother's from her wedding. She said it would bring me luck, and I figure it did. Though I'm not sure if luck is the right word. If it really did bring me luck, would my name have been reaped do you think? And would my parents have died the way they did?”

Blaine goes to answer, but she doesn't let him. She keeps looking at the bow tie and picks it up, letting it slide between her delicate hands. They're soft looking and maternal at the same time, the way she holds the bow tie so carefully, as if it's the most precious thing she's ever had inside of them.

“I wore the tiara throughout the Arena, I killed while wearing it and I threw it out as soon as I got back to Nine. They keep making me wear one every time I am present at a televised event, it makes me nauseous. The feel of that thing on my head, it takes me back into the Arena.”

“Is that why you cut your hair short and dyed it pink that one year?”

“They didn't appreciate it,” Quinn smiles, “Tina loved my guts, but the pink hair wasn't something a District girl could do. Especially not the way I did it, which had not much to do with Capitol fashion. They needed me to be recognizable as a Tribute, a victor and mostly a girl from the District. I agreed to have it back to blond, but I'll never grow it out to be long again. This short cut, it's me now.

“It's not over, Blaine, not by far,” she continues, “Cooper and I talked about it, wondered how much we needed to tell you before – before we knew if you'd make it. We thought maybe you wouldn't want to if we did tell you. We were selfish to make you survive, we were selfish to not give you your own choice.”

“Of course I wanted to survive .. -”

“No, Blaine, you don't understand. It's not over, it's only just begun. Cooper and I, we're the reason you were sent in there. They're not happy you won. They're not happy at all, they wanted you to die. You needed to die, they need to punish us and they can't cut out our tongues, throw us in prison or kill us like they do with others. We are to valuable to them, as victors we need to look like it's a precious thing to win. It isn't. After we win, they own us, they think we owe them things, think we should be grateful to them that they give us all this money and that we have to do everything they ask of us. Cooper and I, we're rebels in a sense, we don't always listen to them.”

Blaine takes a deep breath, keeps his eyes fixed on the bow tie between Quinn's fingers and then closes them to be able to fully focus on what Quinn is telling him.

“When my parents died, I knew it was my fault. Cooper doesn't want me to tell you this, but I think you should know what you're getting into. When my parents died it was my fault. Right after I got out of the Arena, I wasn't as physically hurt as you were. I had an alliance that got me through to the end, people liked our alliance and we had sponsors. When I got out it turned out those sponsors, they felt like I owed them something and President Snow, he agreed. He forced me into rooms with them and … - I rather not talk about what happened.

“It turns out, President Snow, he felt like I owed him things too. He felt like it was him who gave me the opportunity to become famous, as if it was something I wanted. He invited me to his quarters in his private time.”

“What happened?”

“I refused. Next thing I know, both my parents are dead.”

Blaine swallows thickly. He'd always known Cooper didn't like the Capitol, known he and Quinn were together on that, but he'd never understood why exactly. They served them good food, free food, they had a nice place to stay for those few weeks. Cooper even talked about friends in the Capitol, other victors they get along with. Finnick Odair is a good friend of Cooper's, he knows, as is Annie Cresta. He knows Quinn and Johanna Mason get along, but now he knows why. 

Nothing about it is just because they're nice people, because they are good to them or because they have the same taste in music. It's because they're in the same place, in the same life. It's because all of them are puppets, mastered by the Capitol. And now Blaine is one of them too. He tries to ignore the stinging pain he feels, the images in his mind. He looks at Quinn, really looks at her and sees the lines. They hadn't lost Blaine, but he thinks of all the tributes they have lost over the years, he thinks of how much that must hurt. He doesn't want to, he doesn't want to do it. 

“I'll handle myself,” he promises Quinn, “I'll make sure nothing bad happens.”

“How though,” she smiles, it's weird to see her smile in a situation like this, “you already pissed them of by staying alive, Blaine, there's nothing you can do to stop bad things from happening now. Just make sure they don't know who's important to you and they'll be safe.”

“Kurt,” he whispers.

“Kurt.” Quinn confirms.

Blaine doesn't confront Cooper, doesn't ask him what he did was so bad they felt the need to send his little brother into the Arena to die. He doesn't talk to Kurt much either, every fiber in his being feeling the need to protect Kurt. It's stupid, it was just one little kiss and he doesn't even know if Kurt feels the same about him. Doesn't even know for certain what it is he feels.

He does, however, notice the long and confused stares Kurt throws him, feels Kurt's hand settle low on his back when he asks to pass him in the hallway. Sees how Kurt reaches for the salt at the table the same time he does, making sure their fingers brush. Blaine's not dumb, not oblivious, knows Kurt is waiting for a moment to discuss privately about what happened before he went in. He understands Kurt needs to talk about the kiss and what happened, and hopes Kurt explains his distance now as it being a moment of weakness, a fear driven kiss. If Kurt ever gets the chance to ask, Blaine will use that as an excuse. 

He can't let Kurt close to him, not now he knows what is about to happen. Quinn keeps coming to him with more and more horror stories, things they never told Blaine before but need him to know now before he finds out on his own.

Snow wants to sell Cooper as a lover to hundreds and thousands of women and men from he Capitol, Cooper refuses to come every time Snow gets a high enough bid to try it. Finnick Odair does do it, because the one he cares about is Annie Cresta and they've tortured her so much already that she's gone slightly insane. No one but their victor friends and apparently Snow know about it. Every single person who buys Fininck off Snow, they think he really loves them. People think money can buy them love. Quinn turns green as she tells Blaine, then runs to the toilet to puke. Reminded of that one time she gave into it, fresh out of the Arena and an innocent fifteen year old girl.

She tells Blaine about Haymitch Abernathy, how he had turned the Capitol's force field around the Arena into a weapon and how his parents had died within the year after he became a victor. She tells him about Haymitch's alcohol abuse and that she understands, that she herself had been probably become an addict had Cooper not won the games the year after her.

And then, she tells Blaine the most important thing. The thing he can't ever tell anyone else, because if the Capitol knows about this they will absolutely and most certainly use it against them the way they use Annie Cresta against Finninck Odair.

“Cooper and I,” she says, “we're in love.”

It's minutes before their joint interview with Caesar Flickerman, and the whole interview long he looks between Cooper next to him and Quinn in the audience. He wonders how he didn't see it before, understand it, but he does now. To Blaine, Quinn has always been his big sister. For as long as he can remember, she has always been around. She beams up at both of them and he understands how it isn't suspicious to the Capitol at all, they're all from District 9 and everyone knows they're neighbors.

But now, now he looks at Kurt next to Quinn he knows she looks at Cooper the same way. She looks at him the way he looks at Kurt and he hopes no one sees it. They sit next to each other, hands clutched between them and Blaine wonders if Kurt knows how much he means to Blaine. They haven't spoken about the kiss or anything at all since Kurt talked to him about the Arena and there isn't much time either. 

Blaine feels strangely accomplished at it, even if all he wants right now is stand up and announce to everyone here how amazing the silver man who dressed him was. He's dressed Blaine tonight, as well, in a gorgeous silver suit. He's wearing a black undershirt, with a red bow tie, patterned with silver stars. His shoes are just as red, also patterned with silver stars and he wants the world to know how much he appreciates Kurt Hummel, his silver clothing, his silver hair and silver tattoo. But mostly, his silver-green eyes and pliant lips. He wishes he could tell the world.

He wishes he could tell Kurt.

Soon, the interview is over. The Capitol loves the Anderson brothers, is the conclusion of the night. They get a standing ovation and are ushered off the stage and onto the train station, before they even get the chance to change. At the train station, Kurt and Quinn stand waiting. Cooper enters the train after a quick goodbye to Kurt and suddenly it makes Blaine wonder if Tina just disappeared as soon as Tish died. He guesses he'll know next year, when he is a mentor for the 74th year's Tributes.

Quinn gives Kurt a quick hug, winks at Blaine and leaves them alone on the platform. There are no peacekeepers around, and with Quinn, Cooper and Isabelle already on the train, it's just the two of them. His microphone from the interview has come of and his tracker had been taken out of his arm at the hospital. There's nothing here that can stop him from telling Kurt the truth, telling Kurt everything he needs to know. He doesn't.

Instead, he steps in close and gives Kurt a quick, soft peck to the lips. It's not as desperate as it was before, still when he steps back Kurt almost trips trying to follow him with his lips.

“Don't ever think you shouldn't care about me,” Blaine says, “please, always care but never let anyone know. It's for the better, okay?”

Kurt looks at him with wide eyes, then quietly nods and blinks away a tear.

“I'll see you in a few months,” Kurt says with a bright smile then, though the break in his voice gives him away, “I'll make sure you'll look nice for the victory tour.”

Back in District 9, Blaine gets assigned is own house and completely ignores it. He stays in the familiar house with Cooper and his parents. Quinn had warned him, as much as he wanted to offer the house to Tish's family, to not do it. If he did, she warned, they'd be dead in an instant. Another explosion at the factory or a terrible accident with the oven catching fire, burning down the entire house. No, families of tributes should not be shown any mercy or they'd die. Blaine assumes it has to do with making the Capitol look bad, making those people into people instead of simple pawns in their games of repression. 

Being a victor, it's a terrible thing to be. It's as if things get worse, instead of better. His nightmares frequent, and even during the day he constantly feels as if he needs to be on his guard for any killers. Every little girl he comes across turns into Pennie, every teenage girl suddenly looks like Tish. Boys are scary, and when they get to close their faces turn blistered and murderous. He's yelled in innocent people's faces more than once. 

With Cooper and Quinn's secret out to Blaine, he suddenly notices how quiet the house is at night. Cooper's room goes unused, mostly, as he spends his nights at Quinn. For his own house, he makes sure the place looks like it's lived in and not suspicious to Capitol visitors. Not that they get many, Blaine watches his mother and father's every step, waiting for them to drop dead for his survival but they don't. His father remains distant, his mother has changed into an emotional wreckage. 

She hugs him tightly every night before he goes to bed, he leaves the living room the same time every night, around ten o'clock, and pretends to be asleep when she comes to check on him. She never checked on him before he went into the Arena. He feels stupid, his nineteenth birthday is coming up and his mother checks on him before she goes to bed. He doesn't say anything, though, he patiently awaits her gentle kiss on his forehead every night. It's like a charm, like he cannot fall asleep until she's given him that one kiss.

There are times where he feels like a small child again, banging on Cooper's door and begging for him to come out of it. Cooper comes, Cooper always comes for him and holds him close when things get too much. During the day.

At night, Cooper is never there and Blaine knows why, knows he's with Quinn because they are the only ones who can keep each other sane. His mother sometimes comes in when he thrashes and screams through fast dreams, but her arms are never as strong and never as understanding as either Cooper's or Quinn's arms. He gets to know his brother and his brother's girlfriend better now he knows them. Knows about them and knows all the horror they have lived through. He knows their fears and their dreams, the feeling of being trapped in a place and not able to get out. He knows the anger and the hurt, the frustration of knowing how much someone means to you and not able to tell a soul.

He calls Kurt, daily, but hangs up the phone before he can reveal it's him. He thinks Kurt knows it's Blaine, Quinn has told him they speak to each other sometimes. He calls Kurt every night, half an hour after he's left the living room and half an hour before his mom comes in to check on him. Kurt must know, or he would stop picking up.

That moment of the day, it is the moment he looks forward to the most. It's an easy moment, a moment where instead of a Hunger Games survivor, he can be a teenage boy with unexplainable hormones. A young boy who met another boy he likes, who doesn't know how to tell the boy. But then there's always that moment where he realize the phone can be tapped, that if he tells Kurt how much he cares he will be in danger and he can't do that. Nothing happened to his parents yet, but there's this dreading feeling and the way his father looks at him, he knows there's more to the story than Cooper and Quinn have told him.

“Being beautiful is a curse, Blaine,” Cooper once told him, “the Capitol will want you to sleep with all these men and women and if you refuse they hurt the people you love. I refused, they tried to kill you. You haven't refused them anything yet, so don't worry too much.”

But they failed, they tried to kill Blaine by throwing him into the Arena and they failed. He knows they won't let it rest, whatever it is they are punishing Cooper, Quinn and his father for. He knows his father is in on it as well, and his mother is deliciously oblivious. More than once he tries to ask his father, tries to ask Cooper or Quinn but neither answer him. Cooper warns him not to ask again, tells him he will know in time and to just focus on dealing with everything he's been through in the Arena.

He asks Cooper then, how though? How do you deal with everything, and Cooper has no answer other than you try. 

He does try, day in day out he tries to drown out the horrors and focuses on daily tasks. He takes up singing, buys a gorgeous grand piano off the Mayor and decorates one of the many unused rooms in his unused house as a music room. He plays the piano day after day, sings songs that come to him. Sometimes Quinn joins him, her angelic presence soothing and her voice blending perfectly with Blaine's. Cooper, too, joins them sometimes and when it's just the three of them they're carefree with each other. Blaine sees them hold hands, Cooper hugs Quinn from behind and she leans back against him. It looks so natural, so normal and it looks like everything Blaine needs to keep him grounded.

He goes into town, into Tish's father's shop, five months after he gets back from the Arena. He can't offer them money, has made sure it's absolutely against the rules to give them any charity, and so instead he brings him food. He gets them bread and meat, some days even pudding. He tells them he's sorry, wishes there was more he could have done and Tish's father ensures him it's alright. He's happy Blaine lived and yes, they miss Tish but it is not Blaine's fault.

The more Tish's family seems to accept him, the guiltier he feels about her death. He could have done more, told Cooper and Quinn to make sure she lived as much as they made sure for Blaine. She still would have taken that spear to the stomach. He could have done more. She would have died anyway. It's Blaine's fault. There's nothing he could have done.

The first time he feels completely calm at at ease in his own body is, strangely enough, when his prep-team shows up the night before the victory tour and prods and pokes at him until he's clean shaved, hairless in the weirdest places, and ready to face his silver man. Sugar takes his hand and pushes him from his room towards the stairs, which he descends as gracefully as he can in the tiny robe they had put on him.

At the bottom of the stairs, Kurt waits for him with the brightest smile on his face. His hair is carefully styled, there seem to be more silver streaks in them than before and his tattoo shines bright in the light of the candles his mother has lit. He's wearing a long sleeved, tight, black shirt with a silver bow tie on it and a silver pair of pants. It makes Blaine smile immediately, to see how Kurt will never stray from the color. He wonders if he's going to wear a lot of silver on this tour as well.

“Hi,” Kurt's voice is breathless, “I am here to help you make an impression.”

The tour starts off in District 12, the train ride there longer than the one to the Capitol. Isabelle keeps running around making sure everyone will know their place, making sure Kurt has the suit ready and measured correctly, as Blaine had gained some weight since getting back to the District again, telling Cooper and Quinn to lay low and stay behind with her. It's funny, really, how she keeps telling Quinn what to do until Quinn shushes.

“Stop telling me what to do,” Quinn bites, “as far as I know, I'm the only one on this train who's done this tour more than once.”

Things settle after that, Blaine announces he's going to bed and Kurt follows him. Their rooms are right next to each other, he can hear Kurt get ready, brushing his teeth and getting into bed, then he can hear Kurt getting out and pacing the room. The train goes on quietly, Blaine tosses and turns in the bed, awaits his mother's goodnight kiss that doesn't come and eventually falls into a restless sleep.

He wakes, not much later, to a dark room with Kurt standing over him.

“You were screaming,” he sounds worried, “I didn't know if I should wake you or not.”

Blaine is disorientated, Kurt over him and he feels like he's moving. It takes him a short while to realize he's on the train for the victory tour and only then he notices the tears in Kurt's eyes. The room around him is dark, but the tiny flickering light from outside makes the tears and silver tattoo sparkle. Blaine scoots over, pats on the bed and allows Kurt in. He takes a breath, wants to start talking but Kurt goes first.

“I don't get you,” he says, “you kiss me before you go into the Arena and then you ask me to tell you everything and I do and you start ignoring me. There was something special, I know you felt it too and I understand you went through a lot, almost freezing to death and all that, but you could still talk to me? I know it's you that calls me every night and I keep picking up the phone, hoping this is the time you'll talk to me and you never do. You kissed me before you went into the Arena and you kissed me before you left and I don't underst .. - hmph” 

There's nothing he could have done to stop himself from claiming Kurt's lips. Here in his bed, in the dark, where all he can see is Kurt's face and all he hears is Kurt's voice. Kurt's body heat next to him vanishing the panicked feeling left over from the nightmare like a charm. And Kurt, his silver man, who kisses him back so eagerly. His arms wind around Blaine's waist and pull him in as close as he can, shifting so he's on top of Blaine completely.

Blaine goes pliant under Kurt's body immediately, nothing has ever felt as right as Kurt's body on top of his own, Kurt's fingers twined in his hair and Kurt's breath mingling with his own. He gasps, grabs at Kurt's sleep shirt and moans quietly when he feels heat coiling tight in his belly. He feels safe, the safest he's felt since leaving the Arena by far, and if he could he'd stay with Kurt's body on top of his own forever. They kiss, their tongues exploring each other's mouth with a soft sweetness that makes Blaine's heart ache and want for more, even if Kurt is right there and on top of him. They kiss for a long time and even longer, kiss until they both go quiet and their tongue-tied dance turns into soft and little pecks. They kiss until Kurt's breath evens out and he goes limp in Blaine's arms, soft and tender with sleep.

Sleep doesn't find Blaine, and he's out the bed and dressed before Kurt wakes up. He thought he was prepared for facing Pennie and Barse's parents in Twelve, but nothing could have really done that for him. As he stands on the stage and is forced to watch Pennie's face above her family, it takes everything in him not to break. He clutches the notes Isabelle had given him tig htly, says a few nice words to the family and offers them his condolences. After, when Isabelle guides him into the justice building, he walks a straight line into Kurt's arms and lets himself be held.

He has dinner with the Mayor of twelve that night, meets Haymitch Abernathy for the first time and isn't quite sure he agrees with the man's manners. He sees why Quinn likes him, though, they get along quite right and it seems like they understand each other's pain more so than Blaine and Cooper do. Cooper seems to like Haymitch alright, too and so Blaine decides not to let his alcohol abuse bother him too much. He guesses he understands, once you find a way to escape reality it's easier to stay away from reality. Blaine is pretty sure he feels the same way about Kurt's lips as Haymitch does about alcohol. 

Kurt, Isabelle, Sugar and the rest of his prep team seem to be absolutely appalled by him, though, keep excusing his manners and ask a few of the serving staff to take all the alcohol away from him. When Blaine sees him drinking out Quinn and Cooper's glasses after they do, he laughs. Haymitch winks at him when he sees Blaine and raises Quinn's wine in his direction. 

“To non-career victor's,” he cheers and chucks the beverage in one go.

That night on the train, Kurt crawls into his bed before he gets the chance to fall asleep and have a terrifying dream. They don't kiss, not tonight, because Blaine falls into a serene and content sleep the moment Kurt's arms slip around his waist. He feels well rested the next morning, waking up with Kurt's arms still around him, he feels like he can face the world.

The next few Districts are easier to face, in none of them he knew the Tributes names. He knows them now, but it's different when they're long dead. It gets a bit difficult when he sees the girl who was beheaded by the wolves above her family, but offers them his condolences just as sincerely and distantly as he offered them to any of the other families. It's not until District 4 that he feels like he almost loses it again. Watching the boy's face large above his mother's, he immediately gets images of a blistered face again. His mother is a beautiful, saddened, dark-skinned woman. She seems young, lonely, and Blaine's heart breaks.

He tells her he's sorry for how it happened, how it had to be, tells them he wishes things could be different and that he hopes they can forgive him. He ignores Isabelle's notes as he looks Four's mother straight in the eye and begs her with everything he can to forgive him.

“He was so close,” he says, “and I prevented him from getting out. I'm sorry and I hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to understand why I did it. I wish there was a way I could bring him back to you, but I can't. Please forgive me.”

Please forgive me so I can start forgiving myself.

He watches Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair closely that night at dinner. District 4 is the first career District he has been in and it's strange to see more than five victors at the table. Finnick treats an older lady named Mags like she's his grandma, he's cute with her and helps her cut her meat. His sight never loses Annie, though Blaine is sure Kurt, Isabelle or any of his prep team would never notice as long as they don't know about it. Still, the way Finnick constantly looks at Annie he knows he'll do everything he can to protect her from the Capitol's hands. 

Kurt sits next to Blaine, keeps brushing his feet to Blaine's under the table and throwing him shy smiles. They haven't kissed since the first night, but he spent every night in Blaine's compartment in the train, holding Blaine tightly so Blaine sleeps. Blaine winds his ankle around the foot Kurt keeps rubbing against him and looks at him, tries to tell with his eyes it's alright. He can't stay away from Kurt, no matter how important it is to keep him safe and looking at Quinn and Cooper, Finnick and Annie, tells him he doesn't have to. As long as they can keep it quiet from whoever might want to do something to hurt Blaine for surviving the Arena, he will be able to talk about everything with Kurt.

“You’re right,” he says that night in bed when Kurt curls up close to him. He’s spooning Blaine from behind, and Blaine secretly thanks whatever God he doesn’t believe in that he doesn’t have to do this face to face, “you’re right about not understanding. I don’t think you can understand.”

“Then tell me,” Kurt whispers in Blaine’s ear, brushing a soft kiss at the tender skin.

“I thought I understood, before, when Quinn would cry out and Cooper would rush to her side. I thought I understood, but I didn’t. I thought I knew about the horrors they went through, but no one can know, no one can possibly understand.”

“Explain,” Kurt says again, sliding in a little closer and holding Blaine tight around his chest. It feels good, keeps him grounded and gives him that last bit of strength he needs to keep talking.

“I understand now,” Blaine continues, “why she cries out, why Cooper rushes to her side. I understand why they grew to be so close and why she didn’t talk to me at all before I entered the Arena. People think, you go in there and make sure you come out and things will be okay. But they’re not, nothing is okay anymore. I killed people, I went in there and I k…-”

“You survived them.”

“No, Kurt, let me finish. I killed them. I see them in my dreams, they beg me for their lives, beg me to live. They want to live, they all wanted to live as much as I did, none of them wanted to die and now they’re dead and in my dreams I beg them to take my life. I tell them it’s better that way, it’s better to be dead than to be a survivor, because it is.

“I want my life to be over most of the time, but I can’t bring myself to end it. There’s too much to live for, still. There’s Cooper and my parents, Quinn and you.”

“Me?”

“Always, you.”

Blaine turns in Kurt’s arms now, the feeling of no turning back settles in his stomach like a warm and welcome ball, he needs to resolve this once and for all. Needs to tell Kurt what he knows, what he thinks and he needs to see what Kurt has to say to that. This is it, it’s now or never and all or nothing.

“But I lost my friend in that Arena, Kurt. For you and for people from the Capitol it’s just a simple game, a spectacular television show. That’s not what it’s like for me, or Cooper, Quinn or any of the other victor’s. It’s our life, it’s what marks us for the rest of forever.

“I went in there thinking I would die, I kissed you before because it felt like the last thing I would do and then it wasn’t. Suddenly I had this whole life ahead of me with more money than anyone could possibly spend in District 9 and I’m not allowed to help my friends or family with it. Only I can spend it, because I’m eighteen not even my parents have any right to that money. They nearly lost two kids, Kurt, and they have no right to the money. It’s all mine and I have no idea what to do with it other than to spend it on food and clothing. I can’t give any of it away to, say, Tish’s family because the Capitol will find out and they’ll execute them all. They can’t take money from victors, they’ve been told because victors try that every single year. The reason we try it, it’s the guilt. You can’t believe the guilt that comes with leaving the Arena. Everyone keeps congratulating me, says I’ve done an amazing job and that I deserve to be pampered and relax for a little but they don’t understand.”

“Blaine,” Kurt’s hand comes up to his cheek and a strong thumb strokes away the falling tears. Blaine doesn’t even try to hold them back, let’s them flow and let’s Kurt see his pain. Words can say a lot, words can tell him what he thinks Kurt needs to hear, needs to know, but only his body language and face can convey how he feels.

“What you see is a person winning one year of The Games. Five years ago, the girl from District 7, do you remember her?”

“No?”

“Me neither,” Blaine says, “but I will always remember every single face of this year’s Arena. I will remember the way a girl was beheaded by a wolf in front of me and I will remember watching my friend bleed out. Her blood in the snow, it’s a permanent fix on my vision and Pennie’s cold body in my arms is a feeling that never really leaves me. My friend bled out in front of me, and then my other friend died in my arms. A guy I sort of liked, I saw him disappear in the ice lake and never saw him again. I saw another boy being speared and then that boy from One being shot to pieces. I blistered someone’s face beyond recognition and kept on stabbing him and stabbing him until he let me go. I know you think I survived all of them, Kurt, but I think I saw them all die and I was the selfish bastard who didn’t join them.”

“I think I .. –“

“And that’s not even the end,” Blaine interrupts Kurt, “then I get out and the first thing my mentor tells me is that this is just the beginning. I’m a simple pawn in their Games, and I always will be. I’m popular in the Capitol now. People want me, want me to always be there and ready for them and I don’t want to be. But when I refuse, they’ll hurt whoever I love most. Annie Cresta, you’ve met her tonight, she’s so weird and crazy because she loves Finnick and he loves her.”

“Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta?”

“And I’m trusting you when I tell you this Kurt, because everything is true and everything makes sense. I wasn’t put in that Arena by chance as much as I wasn’t a victor by chance. I was put in that Arena because they knew that was how to get to Quinn and Cooper and, though I’m not sure how he comes into this, my dad.”

“What do you mean?”

“They did something, or didn’t do something maybe, that President Snow doesn’t like and to show them he’s still in charge, that even though he can’t hurt them physically because they’re famous now and people would notice, he can still hurt them deeply. Quinn is convinced that I was supposed to die and I didn’t. If they find out you helped, that those sponsors were your friends instead of Cooper's fans, he will hurt you. He’s pissed with me for not dying and if he knows he can hurt me through you, he’ll hurt you too. And that’s the worst part is that I put you in danger.”

“I approached you, remember, I choose to help you.”

Kurt pulls Blaine in close and hugs him tightly, making butterflies in Blaine’s stomach fly wild. Kurt’s body heat is completely welcome, though a little suffocating, and he buries his face deep in his neck. They lay like that for a long time, Blaine searching for the words he can’t find anymore. Everything he’s been thinking, everything he’s bottled up is out now and the ball is in Kurt’s court. It’s up to Kurt what happens next.

And if next is Kurt’s lips soft at the base of his curls, just behind his ears, he’s not going to stop it. He’s not going to stop the sloppy and desperate kisses coming closer and closer to his mouth and when Kurt’s mouth claims Blaine in a wild manner, he can only eagerly reply. Everything he needs now is Kurt and Kurt on top of him. Kurt’s tongue finds its way inside Blaine’s mouth and licks softly. He moves Blaine to his back and moves on top of him, grabs his hair and tugs it backwards.

He pants hot and hard in Blaine’s ear as he rocks his hips up and down, up and down against Blaine’s groin. They rock together, rock until their brains shut off and their bodies take over. They move with Blaine on top of Kurt, Kurt on top of Blaine, with each other and next to each other. They dance around each other until Blaine doesn’t know where he ends and Kurt begins, they move until Blaine forgets his name and only remembers Kurt’s and they move until Kurt breaths Blaine’s name in his ear hoarsely, like a silent mantra.

“You're everything, I'd risk everything for you,” Kurt whispers tight in Blaine’s ear after he comes back down from his high, winding his arms tight around Blaine on top of him.

“You...-,” Blaine answers, “ever since my name was reaped this fire has been coursing through my veins and when I left the Arena it got worse. Sometimes I feel like it’s getting so hot, so fast and heavy my skin will explode. But here, in your arms, it’s gone.”

“Blaine, I … -”

“No, shush, don’t say anything else please? Just, just lay here with me.”

“Okay.”

Kurt is careful around Blaine the next few days, doing everything he can to avoid him during the day but trying to get him closer than physically possible every night. They talk more than they kiss or do anything else, but there’s always touching. Holding hands in between them as they speak, converse about the future. It’s random mostly, though Kurt keeps reminding Blaine he trusts his judgment. Kurt talks too, now, and Blaine listens. It’s like their relationship evens out. Where before the Arena Kurt did most of the talking because Blaine had not much to say, and after the Arena it was Blaine who needed to explain and take the lead, with everything out in the open they’re equals.

Which, of course, they are not. Arriving in the Capitol he quickly is reminded. The suit Kurt designed for the feast and President Snow’s house is extravagant, more extravagant than anything he ever wore. The sleeves end wide around his wrists, a silver hoop holding them open. The rest is black, with a silver shirt and silver pants. The pants are tighter than should be appropriate, his blazer is longer at the back then it is at the front and Blaine just doesn’t understand where the simplicity of all his former outfits disappeared to.

“Just deal with it,” Kurt winks, “for me.”

 

Blaine smiles and nods. He's tired, he has hardly slept in between talking to Kurt and trying to ignore Quinn's increasing nightmares. It's as if she has been feeling just as guilty, just as horrible since they left District 4. She's been screaming loudly every night since, and he's heard Cooper try and shush her to sleep. 

Looking at Kurt's proud beam, though, Blaine decides he'll deal. He compliments Tina on Quinn’s dress, compliments Kurt on Cooper’s suit that’s so much simpler than mine, Kurt, why? He nods friendly to people whom he doesn’t know and eventually lets himself be introduced to Kurt’s father. 

Burt Hummel is nothing like what Blaine expected Kurt’s father to be. He is, to put it frank, the most down to earth Capitol resident Blaine has met thus far and a complete sweetheart. He compliments Blaine on his victory, but leaves it at that. He doesn’t keep asking about what it’s like to be a victor like everyone else does, and most of all he doesn’t glorify it the way Isabelle keeps doing. Blaine talks to Kurt’s father for shorter than he would have liked, any excuse to be around Kurt without seeming suspicious would be nice and he does really like Burt’s presence.

Yet, Isabelle is the director for tonight and when she orders him to follow her he has to. She takes his hand to lead him through the crowd of people, he ignores the touches and amazed stares when he sees the faces and keeps his eyes focused on Isabelle’s fluffy purple hair. She stops at a short, blond woman who wobbles on the high heels she’s wearing. Her hair is short, too, styled big but it’s her own, rather than a wig like Isabelle’s. She sets down her glass forcefully, spilling more than half of the champagne in it when she sees Blaine and coaxes towards them.

“Blaine,” Isabelle says with a gentle but tight smile, “I would like for you to meet your biggest sponsor. April Rhodes.”

“Ooh,” April coos, “Kurt told me you were ten times cuter in real life!”

“Kurt?” Isabelle asks.

“Yeah, Kurt, he’s my friend you know. He’s the reason I helped little Blainers here out of the Arena. Can’t bear it in my heart to see Kurt sad. He was so sad when Blaine was injured, I just had to step in now didn’t I? Kurt begged me to get him the …”

“Stop talking! Now!” Isabelle orders April curtly and grabs her arm to drag her into a quiet corner. Blaine follows them and makes sure their view is blocked for anyone trying to sneak a look. Though he feels everything is over already, April in her drunken state having revealed too much to Isabelle, he needs to be sure no one else is listening in. It’s difficult, trying to blend into the crowd and making sure no one watches or listens in when he’s the person this entire party is about and dressed in clothes as extravagant as Kurt made them.

He leans in close to Isabelle, hears her whisper to April and sees April’s face contract in horror.

“Don’t ever talk about Kurt convincing you to do that ever again. What is your reason for sponsoring Blaine as generously as you did?”

“Because he’s Kurt’s…”

“No! Because you liked his pretty little face and couldn’t bear to see it mangled. Blaine was your favorite tribute…-”

“He was!”

“… - and you had some money to spare so you went to his brother, asked him what he needed and got him it. Kurt Hummel has nothing to do with why you were Blaine’s major sponsor. Am I making myself clear?”

Never before has Blaine seen Isabelle so strict, and though she’s actually making things better for him and Kurt, he’s never been more scared in his life. April seems to have gotten the message, grabs her champagne from the table and wobbles into the nearest bathroom. It seems like no one around them has actually heard what Isabelle said and when Blaine himself tries to escape, she grabs his arms forcefully.

“Did you know?” She asks.

“Maybe.”

“You’re lucky I’m your escort, Anderson, and you’re lucky I care about Kurt so much. I don’t think any of the others would have let this slide. I’ll make sure April Rhodes keeps her mouth shut, but you make sure no one will ever be suspicious.”

“Of course.”

“Okay now, shoo, go, and don’t let me see your face again tonight, I’m angry.”

Just as Isabelle turns and walks away from him, Kurt comes up behind him and slides his arm discretely over Blaine’s lower back. He goes to stand in front of Blaine, a decent length away to not cause any suspicion and offers him a new glass of red wine.

“I feel sick.” Blaine says, looking at the plate of champagne flutes going buy, to which Kurt tugs his arms and leads him to a bathroom.

“Didn’t they tell you to drink that stuff in here?” He asks and pushes Blaine into a free stall.

“What?”

“The drinks, you need to drink them in here or you’ll never make it before you get sick. I don’t really like it, messes with my taste buds, but if you want to try them at least do it right.”

“Try what?”

“The food enhancers. The drinks that make you empty your stomach so you can keep eating without feeling full or getting fat.”

“There’s drinks for that!?”

“Of course there is.”

“Drinks that make you throw up? For Christ’s sake, Kurt, do you know there are people where I live who have trouble feeding their children daily and here you people go and puke to eat all you want?”

It’s silent outside the stall, Blaine can’t see Kurt’s face but has a vague feeling it’s a sad one. The face he pulls whenever Blaine tells him something about the horrors of living in the District, things Kurt can’t possibly understand or imagine. It’s a face Blaine doesn’t like to see, the way his brow furrows and his eyes look questioning. His voice goes softer, then, too and he sounds so very apologetic when he talks.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Of course it’s that bad, Kurt!”

Blaine opens the stall and moves right past Kurt, into the room again and finds Quinn and Cooper. He takes Quinn away from Cooper with force and presses himself to her. He dances with her until the evening is over. Asks her if she ever tried it and is glad to hear she is just as horrified by the existence of a drink like that as Blaine is. She says he’ll get used to it, during other dinners and celebrations during The Games and that if it for one second becomes too much, he needs to come to either her or Cooper and they’ll be there for him.

He dances with Cooper, too, for a short while and for just those ten minutes he lets himself forget about yelling at Kurt, about anything and closes his eyes. For just a while, in his big brother’s arms, he is that little boy who used to stand on top of Cooper’s feet and let himself be led. He holds onto Cooper’s strong, broad shoulders and is a little child for just a while. Something in him settles, but the fire still courses through his veins, keeps coursing through until he’s warm and solid in bed and, despite their fight that night, Kurt slides in and pulls him close.

They don’t talk until morning, when he’s awoken with tender kisses to the back of his neck and soft whispers of apology. Blaine turns around in Kurt’s arms to face him, whispers soft words of apology back and kisses him on the mouth. He needs to leave soon and he can’t leave being angry at Kurt. He promises to always come back to Kurt, he promises to never say goodbye and to always talk when things are wrong.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he whispers and Kurt answers, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you immediately what happened with Isabelle and April,” Blaine says, to which Kurt answers, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize something else was wrong. I’m sorry I thought you’d gone as shallow as me and drank that drink.”

“You aren’t shallow.”

“You’re better than I am.”

“I’m only good because you make me good.”

“Don’t make me cry.”

“Don’t make me cry, then.”

“You have to go.”

“I have to go.”

They kiss until Isabelle knocks on the door, says the train will be leaving in an hour, and they kiss a little longer than that. 

The fifteen hour train trip back to District 9 is horrible without Kurt to hold him, and so he crawls in between Cooper and Quinn like a little child. He promises them this will be the only time, and they tell him he can come to their bed whenever he wants. Just, like, walk up the stairs really loudly so we have a warning, Cooper makes him promise.

Blaine didn’t think he’d actually take them up on the offer, but finds himself going over to Quinn’s house on more than one occasion throughout his time back in District 9. He talks to Kurt over the phone every night, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. They can’t say they love each other, he can’t tell Kurt how much he misses his arms or his kisses, his smell and his fingers playing with Blaine’s hair. He can only tell Quinn and Cooper and she he goes there two times a week. Most nights he spends in their guest room, Quinn’s guest room and only rarely he joins them in their big bed. Everything in the house is theirs in a way Blaine would want to share things with Kurt, but he can’t. 

Another reason he’s over at Cooper’s and Quinn’s so much, is because his father keeps being distant towards him. He’s polite and friendly, but never the carefree and gentle man he used to be before Blaine went off into the Arena. He tells Kurt often about how stifled he feels in his own home, his mother so equally overbearing as his father is distant and Kurt gives him words of comfort. They pretend to just have gotten to be close friends over the victory tour, not knowing who listens in on their phone conversations, and it leaves Blaine with a longing he can’t quite explain to anyone. Not even to Cooper or Quinn.

He asks Cooper time and again why his father is so distant, if that had happened twelve years ago when Cooper returned as well, but Cooper still avoids his questions. Cooper tells Blaine everything will fall into place in time and this is not the time. He asks Quinn, who looks at Cooper and then tells him the same thing. Blaine yells, gets angry with them for leaving him out and then complains to it about Kurt. Kurt is always a good listener, tells him he understands and never questions Blaine. Sometimes Blaine wonders if Kurt even knows about half of what Blaine tells him, but he doesn’t ask.

They’re not together as a real family until reaping day. Now none of them need to sign in and put their names in the bowl, they have time to watch Twelve and Eleven’s reapings before they have to get ready. His father sits in his usual chair in front of the television, Quinn stands behind the couch and Cooper, Blaine and their mother curl up on the tiny sofa. 

It all happens fairly quickly, first the girl’s name is reaped and Blaine’s heart aches when the camera zooms in on a child, no older than twelve at most. She looks terrified and Blaine gets taken back, immediately, to how he felt when he’d heard his name across the square. He grabs Cooper’s hand and squeezes it tightly, Cooper wiggles it out of Blaine’s grip and throws his arm around him instead. 

And older girl walks forward, calls out the younger girl’s name. The child starts crying and wants to run to the older girl, but they’re both held back my peacekeepers.

“I volunteer!” the older girl yells, “I volunteer as tribute!”

“Oh, my,” Blaine’s mom exclaims while his father, Cooper and Quinn all move closer to the television. Blaine, mostly, is confused as to what is happening. 

He follows the girls movements closely, recognizes his own fear in her eyes as she walks up the stairs towards the stage, where Effie Trinket stands with a bright smile completely out of place for the situation. The very first District 12 Volunteer, she announces.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“Katniss, Katniss Everdeen.”

Quinn rolls the name over her tongue behind Blaine, tries it out and says it over and over again until Cooper shushes her.

“It was her sister,” their father grumbles, “she volunteered for her sister. Look at her, she was brave enough to stand up and say she’ll die to save her sister.”

“They won’t be happy about this, will they?” Quinn asks him.

“Not happy at all.” 

His answer is followed by a heavy, thick silence that isn’t broken for a good ten minutes, until the doorbell announces Isabelle and the Capitol crew has arrived. They have to get ready for Nine's reaping, they'll be on a train to Kurt in about five hours.

“Blaine,” Cooper says as he squeezes his shoulder, “are you ready for your first year of mentoring?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update on the 5th of January!


	5. Chapter 4

The train is a sacred place now, though the bed feels empty without Kurt in it, he still feels safer on the moving carriage than he does in his own bed. He tries not to think about the two children in the compartments next to him. Because that’s what they are, they are nothing more than children. 

A girl, fourteen years old, has two older brothers who weren’t as brave as Katniss Everdeen. The girl with the braid, who took her sister’s place. Everyone is talking about it, her name rolls of everyone’s tongue as soon as they open their mouths. The girl has brought something on, a discussion about morality. She’s given the Tributes a face and a person behind it. She’s given them emotion and both Quinn and Cooper had agreed she has a great chance of winning.

They’re both on the train, two compartments down from Blaine and he can still hear them talking. They think Katniss will win, think she can be it, whatever it may be. Their father had agreed as well, and now more than ever Blaine wants to know what they’re up to. They won’t tell him, say time still isn’t right, but Cooper has promised him it’s soon.

Now, he needs to focus on trying to save this fourteen year old girl or seventeen year old boy who are most likely going to die anyway. Blaine’s pretty sure Isabelle has scared of April Rhodes enough to convince her to sponsor this year’s tributes and on top of that the kids are both infuriatingly plain to begin with. The girl has done nothing to indicate she’s even aware of anything happening around her and the boy seems not to care.

Blaine hopes it’s quick. He, Quinn and Cooper have tried to explain to the kids what is being asked of them, have told them to run away from the Cornucopia. Find shelter, make sure the fires you start won’t help others locate you. He’s tried to tell them and he’s smashed his hands on the table trying to get them to listen, but Cooper had shushed him and shook his head.

It’s no use, he explained after they’d watched all the other District’s reapings and the boy and girl had gone to bed. Quinn had joined them not long after, as had Isabelle, leaving Blaine and Cooper alone in the dining compartment. They’d chatted for a short while before Cooper had explained to Blaine how mentoring works. How you know within half a day whether or not they have a chance of making it.

“A few years before you we had this girl, she was strong willed and determined. We didn’t have to tell her or try to get her attention. She sought us, she asked us questions. She wanted to know how to survive. That’s how you know you’ve got a fighter on your hands, when they want to talk to you and want to know how to survive. Most of the kids we’ve had were like the ones we have this year. Passive, not really understanding what’s happening to them until they’re thrown into the Arena and even then it’s too late. They’re in shock, mostly. Give them time.”

So Blaine lies in bed, thinking of a ginger girl in the room next to him, a dark skinned boy one compartment along from that. Their names, Lumox and Jane, he tries not to think about them too much. It’s almost the same as it was last year. Keep them nameless as long as possible, try to minimalize the loss and grief. Cooper had warned him, the first year is the hardest, and so he does everything he can to make it as easy as possible.

Of course, the easiest would be if the children would just listen to what Blaine had to say, but he can’t tie them to their chairs and make them hear him. He needs to let them be, have them go through prep and styling tomorrow and then at dinner try again. That’s all he can do for now. He’ll guide Lumox to prep, hopes he will see Kurt for a short while before Sugar will haul him in and dress Lumox.   
The next day he’s not as lucky. Lumox is late out of bed, his eyes red brimmed and wide with fear. Blaine spends most of his morning comforting the boy and telling him they’ll do everything within their power to get him out. It’s all he can promise, really, his very best and anything in his power. Or maybe not, because anything in his power would mean trying to use Kurt’s sources again and he won’t.

Seeing Kurt again after having been apart for half a year is weird, especially when it’s in a public setting and all around them are people running, trying to set everything ready for the nation-wide broadcast. Kurt walks towards Blaine with Lumox in tow. The suit Lumox wears looks a whole lot like the suit Blaine had worn last year, the bread crust look over it and it’s skin tight. Blaine almost laughs as he sees it, Lumox uncomfortable and stiff, but the fear in Lumox’s eyes make it impossible to even do so much as chuckle.

Instead, he chooses to watch Kurt. His hair is higher than it has ever been, more silver too and it seems like he’s gotten the tattoo next to his eye touched up as well. The heart shines bright and clear, as if it was marked in his face just for Blaine. He smiles wide and waves a little, Blaine waves in return but when he actually approaches Blaine at the carriage where he’s waiting for them, all they can do is shake hands and tell each other a friendly hello.

Things are a little awkward between them from that moment on, they watch Lumox and Jane climb to the carriage. Meanwhile Blaine keeps up the polite chatter with Jane’s stylist, Tina, just as much as he does with Kurt. She’s nice enough to be around and it distracts from the uncomfortable distance he feels between himself and Kurt. After the carriages are off into the open space where the audience awaits this year’s Tributes, Blaine, Tina and Kurt join Cooper and Quinn backstage to watch the broadcast on a screen.

Quinn sits next to Haymitch Abernathy, who on his turn sits next to Finnick Odair. Next to him sits Johanna Mason and Blaine is to take his place next to her. Kurt joins a man named Cinna, who has eyes as golden as Kurt’s are silver, to the room where the stylists and escorts can watch. Even here in the Capitol they’ll be separated from each other, the people high up not believing anyone from the District is worthy sharing a room with. Not at large scale anyway, only when they’re supposed to be a team like they will be in their quarters. Blaine looks after Kurt longingly, wishing he could do as much as brush his hand to know he’s happy to see him again. He doesn’t.

Instead, he sits tight in between Johanna Mason and Cooper as he watches the opening ceremony. Nothing seems off at first, every Tribute dressed in something that defines their District. Lumox and Jane don’t do bad, though even after the rigorous prepping and styling on Kurt’s and Tina’s behalf they’re still nothing more than plain looking between all the others, they manage to not look as scared on the screen as they had before the carriage took off. It’s not until there’s a close up of the District 12 carriage that every mentor in the backstage area gasps.

The boy and girl hold their hands high above their heads, smile and seem to be on fire. Behind them flames follow and the crowd erupts in cheers. Around them the victors start talking as well and Blaine looks over to Haymitch, who seems to have somewhat of a proud smile on his face. The rest of the mentors talk about the spectacle that seems to be this year’s female Twelve. She first volunteers to take her sister’s place in the Arena and then appears in the most memorable opening suit that has ever been designed for a simple tribute.

After the ceremony Isabelle comes into the room with Tina and Kurt in tow. They both look pissed, and Kurt shakes his head in Blaine’s direction as soon as he goes to ask what’s wrong. All six of them pick up their two Tributes and guide them to the elevators, which leads them back up to the familiar ninth floor. The entire elevator ride, which takes longer than Blaine remembers, he stands in the back and as close to Kurt as he can without touching him. He smells him, traces a single finger down his lower back, where his top stops just a little higher than his pants stop. The naked skin isn’t something Blaine can resist to touch and Kurt reacts immediately.

“You okay, Kurt?”

“Sure, just a cold shiver.”

Kurt’s voice is hollow, empty and if Blaine knew him any better he’d recognize it as angry. Blaine focuses on Kurt and Kurt alone as they exit the elevator into the big space of their living room for the next few days. Blaine doesn’t get a chance to talk to Kurt alone, as he immediately retrieves to his room with his stuff, excusing himself to work on Lumox’s suit for his interview with Caesar in a few days. Blaine looks around questioningly, but when Tina does the same Cooper shrugs and Isabelle tells them to leave the stylists be.

“It seems they’re all a bit upset with Cinna and Portia, the District 12 stylists.”

“They were impressive,” Quinn puts in, but gets a sharp look from Isabelle as she does. Clearly Isabelle agrees with Kurt and Tina on this one. If only Blaine knew exactly what it was they agree on.

“Lumox, Jane, why don’t you come with me?” he asks, “I’ll show you your bedrooms for the following days.”

Blaine drops each of them off at their room, quickly explaining how everything inside works, and then excuses himself to his own room. He cleans up a little, puts on something comfortable and easy before he heads off to Kurt’s room. It might not be the best time to disturb him, but they haven’t seen each other for six months and he’s missed those arms around him. He’ll have them around his waist again tonight, no matter how angry Kurt might be with one of the other stylists. 

Nothing could have prepared him to see Kurt sitting on the middle of his bed, that will go unused this week if Blaine’s concerned, surrounded by different half cut fabrics and his eyes swollen and red with tears. It’s the least composed he’s ever seen Kurt, even when he saw him a few days after his own Games he hadn’t looked this disheveled. Back then he’d seemed broken, full of heart ache and sorrow but this is just plain panic. He cries loud and Blaine can’t do much more than to rush to his side and pull him in his arms. It’s not how he’d imagined their first meeting after six months to be.

Kurt sobs into his arms, tells him how unfair it is, that they’re obliged by the Capitol to dress the Tributes in something that represents their District and all he and Tina could come up with was bread crust and Cinna just puts his Tributes on fire. Kurt explains he and Cinna usually work together throughout the year, share a working space and Cinna had told Kurt nothing about his plans to use the visual fire technique. 

Blaine listens, let’s Kurt talk and ignores the bubbling feeling of irritation deep in his stomach. He knows this is what Kurt does and how he was raised, these are Kurt’s struggles. A stylist coming up with a better concept than his own, that’s disaster to Kurt’s concerns. Maybe being out of a job next year, having to make do on his father’s money. Blaine wants to leave Kurt sobbing in the room, find his tributes and teach them how to survive. He feels a need deep in his gut to protect the children he’s been assigned as a mentor to and he wants to do everything he can to help them. He wants, more than anything, to have one of them as a neighbor and equal next year and instead he’s stuck inside Kurt’s bedroom with Kurt sobbing over a silly dress.  
He doesn’t mention it, doesn’t dare to call Katniss’s dress a silly one to Kurt and so he softly strokes Kurt’s arm, holds him close and tells him everything will be alright. It’s different, much different and yet not different at all, from his first night on floor Nine last year. Then, too, he’d spend the first evening before dinner curled up in a bed with Kurt. It had been his eyes that were swollen and raw from crying.

When Isabelle announces down the hall they have to be ready to eat in ten minutes he jokes to Kurt, tells him to rinse his eyes with cold water to erase the most obvious signs of his tears and then leaves him with a soft peck on the lips. It’s all he can muster now, he needs to get to the tributes who desperately need and deserve his attention, though when he reaches the dinner table sees it’s still no use.

Jane looks ahead without acknowledging anyone, doesn’t touch the food on her plate and doesn’t engage in the conversation. Lumox is polite, if anything, but distant and uninterested. He keeps asking Blaine, Cooper and Quinn about their games, but only questions fans tend to ask. None of the answers to his inquiries will help him in the Arena. All his questions do is send Blaine back into his own Arena, back into the pain he doesn’t want to be reminded of anymore. His Games will be the freshest in anyone’s mind right now, they’ll be broadcast enough as it is without being reminded by hundreds of questions from his tribute.

How awesome did you feel when that girl’s head got ripped off and then the boy drowned?

Kurt is just as absent during dinner as Jane is, while Tina seems to have composed herself quite okay. Of course, she doesn’t share a work space with Cinna during the year and all that happened for her was someone had a better idea, a wider opportunity to design something special, she wasn’t betrayed by her friend the way Kurt was. Kurt doesn’t touch his food, and Blaine knows Kurt is a fan of a well cooked meal. He’s seen Kurt eat on the victory tour, he’s seen Kurt get seconds without using that awful drink that makes a person throw up, he knows Kurt appreciates food. He’s not eating, he feels more betrayed than Blaine can possibly imagine, by this Cinna person.

Was it satisfying to see that guy’s face turn into blisters?

Quinn keeps looking between Blaine and Kurt. Blaine knows she knows, she always knows. When he was younger she always knew about his silly crushes. She was the first to know when he was in love with the boy from the shop across from the Mayor’s house in Nine, she was the one who helped him organize his serenade to win the boy over. He should maybe offer the boy some money now he has it, since he got him fired from his job there. He knows Quinn knows about him and Kurt and doesn’t even try to hide it when she is the only one looking, when he reaches under the table to cover Kurt’s hand with his own.

Did it hurt when you climbed that tree with all those injuries?

Kurt doesn’t immediately react to the hand, but turns his own around after a while to squeeze Blaine lightly. He’s distant, to say the least and it stings Blaine in more ways than one. He’s disappointed Kurt seems this way, worried he might not feel the same about Blaine anymore. If you have everything you want, the ability to choose to do what you want most. If you have all the money you need and live in a place where food is a plenty, do you get tired of things easily? What if Kurt doesn’t want him anymore.

What was the first thing you thought when you realized you were a victor?

“It doesn’t matter, okay?” he spats in Lumox’s direction, “what matters is you most likely aren’t going to win. There’s a girl out there who volunteered for her sister and was on fire today. Sponsors will like her more than your plain face. You are going to have to do all of it on your own, unlike me with all my medicine and water bottles and food thrown my way. You just need to survive the bloodbath and then try to befriend her enough so she’ll share her stuff with you. My Arena was different from what your Arena will be, and Cooper and Quinn’s Arenas were different too. We don’t know how you’re going to survive, but we know a few things and you’ll listen to those. We know you shouldn’t try to participate in the bloodbath, we know you need to hide and we know you need to not show anyone but the committee rating you your strengths. Show the other tributes what you’re good at and they’ll know how to execute you. That’s all I can help you with. Train your basic survival skills, run away from the Cornucopia and try not to die.”

The entire table looks at Blaine with mouths open. Isabelle looks affronted at such bad table manners, as does Tina. Cooper looks angry and Quinn seems impressed. Kurt is clutching his hand tightly and finally has snapped out of the distant stare he’d been having so far. Blaine knows his speech hasn’t helped Jane or Lumox in the slightest, but at least Kurt seems to be back with him. 

They’re silent the rest of the night, not sure how to continue now things seem to have changed between them. They still sleep in the same bed, Kurt’s bed this time, and it’s Blaine who spoons Kurt and holds him. It feels wrong, the fire coursing through his veins doesn’t settle without the strong arms around him and he doesn’t sleep. He’d looked forward to a decent night of sleep, that had been the only thing he was looking forward to about the 74th Hunger Games. Being able to sleep in Kurt’s arms again seemed to make the whole mentoring and losing kids he’d grow to care about bearable. Nothing about this is bearable.

Blaine doesn’t have to get up early the next morning, Isabelle lets them all sleep in and takes up her duty as escort while she takes the tributes down to the training center. Blaine assumes she just doesn’t want the gamemakers to see his face after his rating debacle from the year before. So he stays in bed, awake, as he hears them rummage through the hall and to breakfast, stays in bed until he hears the ding of the elevator announcing their departure and gets out quietly as not to disturb Kurt. He spends his day in his room, watching mindless television and avoiding responsibility.

He doesn’t see Kurt all day, not until dinner that night where he talks to Jane and Lumox about their day. He asks them what they think of the other tributes and hears nothing he could probably use in their defense. Katniss seems nice, though a loner, her District mate is a bit more social and they seem to be attached by the hip most of the time. The careers are intimidating, nothing new on that front, and Lumox is a bit disturbed at the age of the girl from Eleven. Blaine understands, she’s even younger than Pennie was.

Dinner is quiet, mostly, just the tributes and victors open their mouths to talk throughout it and after that Jane and Lumox retrieve themselves to their private rooms. Blaine reckons they’re tired after a day of training, being forced to work on things neither of them seem to have interest in. It’s as if they’ve long embraced their deaths in a way Tish and Blaine weren’t able to last year. These kids aren’t fighters and Cooper keeps telling Blaine he has to embrace that. 

“We’ll try, of course, to get through to them,” he says, “but you have to accept the probability of them dying in the first five minutes. It is, after all, somewhat of a Nine tradition.”

He crawls into his own bed later that night, after having spent an evening on the sofa with his brother and sort-of-sister. Kurt had disappeared, Blaine suspected to his own room, but finds him in his bed instead. He lies waiting with his arms open, whispers he didn’t expect Blaine to have time for him earlier as they were talking strategies over their new tributes. He says it’s less difficult this year, because he doesn’t feel the emotional connection to Lumox he did to Blaine. Blaine doesn’t interrupt him to say it’s harder for him, because this year he knows he’ll live and have two more deaths on his conscious at the end of the circus. He doesn’t stop Kurt from telling him about the suit he has ready for Lumox, because hearing Kurt talk about his passion for designing is something that still soothes Blaine, no matter how utterly useless the passion seems to him. When Kurt talks about different fabrics and using the wrong one at first, trashing out an entire costume, he doesn’t stop and say what an utter waste that would have been back in the District. He listens to Kurt’s voice, listens to his words until he can’t concentrate anymore and then lets himself be swept into what he expects to be a calm and peaceful slumber.

He wakes once in the middle of the night, on Kurt’s insistence. Kurt has his hands on either shoulder and shakes him fervently.

“You were screaming,” he explains, “you were screaming for Jane to run.”

Blaine doesn’t say anything, tries to recall his dream but can’t. He supposes he believes Kurt, the uneasy urge in the pit of his stomach indicates he did just wake up from one of his nightmares.

“I don’t know why you would care for her that much, though,” Kurt continues, “if anyone I’d say the boy is worth saving.”

Blaine agrees with him quickly, knowing out of the two Jane will most certainly die. He doesn’t tell Kurt that’s probably why he dreamed about her in the first place, because everything inside him knows she’s the one he can’t do anything for. He doesn’t explain to Kurt how it feels, sending that girl in knowing it’s the last he’ll ever see of her. The way Kurt makes it sound so easy, just don’t care for her because she’ll die, it’s one of those things that reminds Blaine again of how different they are. If only he had a button that could make him switch from being a human being to being a Capitol resident. Because how can anyone be human if they enjoy seeing kids being slaughters year after year. Blaine crawls back into Kurt’s arms, lets himself be wrapped up and lies awake seeing images of Jane’s death to come. He lies awake, in Kurt’s arms, wishing he’d never gotten out of that Arena a year ago. 

Over the next few days Jane proves there’s nothing to be done for her. She doesn’t speak a single word all four days of training and when she receives a mere four in her rating, Blaine accepts her defeat almost willingly. The boy scores a decent six, but hell breaks loose when Katniss Everdeen strikes once again with an amazing score of eleven. A rating that high has never happened before, not to mere District tributes. She scores the highest of all tributes, and in the entire after discussion all Caesar Flickerman seems to be able to talk about is the girl on fire. 

In fact, all anyone seems to be able to talk about is the girl on fire. Quinn and Cooper do it very secretively, talking about how maybe ‘she could be what they need’ and Kurt and Tina a little louder. What was Cinna thinking and why would he do such a thing. Instructions were clear, how can his act of rebellion against the gamemakers have paid off so well in her advantage. What has she done to deserve this rating. 

It’s only when Kurt uses the word rebellion that Cooper springs up and rushes off to his room, quickly followed by Quinn. Isabelle seems to agree it’s time for the kids to go to bed and Tina soon follows too. It leaves Kurt and Blaine alone in the sitting area for the first time since they got to the Capitol and it’s awkward to say the least. Though Blaine isn’t sure what has changed, something has and he’s too afraid to ask. They talk, small talk and then some strategy talk.

“What have you designed for him?” Blaine asks, maybe out of interest for Kurt’s work but mostly because Lumox is his responsibility now and maybe whatever Kurt has in stock can outshine Katniss Everdeen.

“Just – a plain suit. He’s plain, I don’t have inspiration like I had last year.”

Kurt sounds sad when he says it, almost as if he’s longing for last year and in a way Blaine understands. When everything had a finality to it, when they were so sure they weren’t ever going to see each other again. Everything had felt so urgent from the get go, he had to be close to Kurt and needed to get to know this interesting man with everything there was in him.

And even on the victory tour that had been the case, in Kurt’s arms he’d felt safe and he needed to soak it up as much as possible. They only had those two weeks, only had the time they had to talk everything out and leave their feelings raw. It had felt urgent, still, less urgent than before the Arena but still urgent. Everything is different when they’re not thinking about Blaine losing his life, when they’re not on a moving train to busy getting to know each others bodies to think about the future.

Blaine looks at Kurt in the silver garments he’s wearing now, wonders why it’s always silver and wishes he had the heart to ask. But tonight, today and this week isn’t about them. He can’t lose his precious time for Lumox or Jane, though Jane is legally Quinn’s responsibility as the female victor, if there’s any chance they can win he needs to be on top of his game. He can’t worry about Kurt now and he feels Kurt pulling away from him as it happens.

They crawl into Kurt’s bed that night, Blaine telling Kurt about how they still have no angle for Lumox or Jane in the interview and that not even Isabelle, who had it so easy with Blaine as the brother last year, has any idea of what they should do. Kurt reacts almost indifferently and though he does make some suggestions, it’s clear that this year’s tributes are plain as day and there’s nothing they can work with for the crowds. Now all Blaine can hope for is they survive the blood bath and are smart enough to conceal themselves after.

The next day Cinna proves it was foolish of Blaine to think Kurt could design something that would outshine Katniss. She shines, literally, as she twirls her dress after an awkward but adorable interview and the bottom lights up in flames. Kurt isn’t fuming over it as much as he was, though his face is still glaring, but Blaine can’t reach him from backstage where he’s watching the interviews with his fellow victors and tributes. 

Jane had done remarkable in her interview, it wasn’t great but Caesar has a knack of getting girls like her out of her shell and for the first time since her name has been reaped Blaine had heard her voice. Soft, a bit croaky from the unused but it sounded scared and fragile to the Capitol. It won over some sympathy and sympathy is a thing Blaine can work with if he needs to. Lumox had been adorable at most, but forgetabble. He’d seemed more a fanboy of Caesar than he had a tribute. Caesar of course had tried to play the angle to Lumox’s advantage, but the boy hadn’t show anything about himself. All he’d done was make the audience fall even more in love with Caesar. 

And now, the girl on fire, she outshines everyone as she walks off the stage. The audience whispers about her, people are already placing bets on her survival and it’s not until Caesar starts to sniff on Twelve boy’s neck that the audience seems to realize another interview has started. They’re all still to mesmerized with Katniss’s dress. 

Peeta, Caesar calls her District’s boy, tells honestly about how he has a crush on a girl. He wants the Capitol to feel sorry for him, sorry for this girl. Wants sponsors so he can win over his girl. Stupid. Blaine or Cooper or Quinn should have thought of it. After all, they are in love and they know what it’s like to not be sure you’ll ever see your beloved again. That angle is something they’re familiar with, so how come Haymitch Abernathy thought of it and not them?  
“She’s here with me.”

It doesn’t sink in immediately, but when it does Blaine knows anyone else in that Arena is doomed. If both Katniss and Peeta survive the bloodbath, sponsors will line up for them. They’ll want the couple to survive, to have romance rather than fight. Romance amongst the fight. Oh, the audience will keel over with excitement when the final draw comes. When it’s only Katniss and Peeta left, when they need to turn on each other to get out. Blaine knows his tributes are doomed, knows this boy and girl are golden, if only they don’t get killed in fight.

The girl and boy on fire. The star-crossed lovers of District Twelve, he hears Quinn call them. Katniss Everdeen, the girl who volunteered to spare her sister’s life. She is unforgettable, and looks unstoppable. Cinna, the man with the eyes as golden as Kurt’s are silver. Blaine realizes then, silver was only enough until gold joined the ring. 

It’s an early night for all of them. Kurt has to be up early to be with Lumox before he enters the Arena, Blaine’s head practically explodes with guilt and rage, at himself and at the world. At anyone who comes close, for not being able to save his tributes’ lives. When he says goodbye to them that night, he says goodbye to them for good. He’s only known them for a week and he’s only first heard Jane’s voice today, but he makes a great deal of giving them a bear hug before he lets them go. He doesn’t show them the tears he feels prickling, tells them to run and to find shelter. Even if he knows deep down, even if he knows right on the surface, that they don’t stand a chance, he still feels as though he can’t leave them without giving them everything he has to offer. Telling them to run, it’s all he has.

He crawls close to Kurt, kisses his lips longer than the brief goodnight kisses they’d shared thus far into the week and lets himself cry. He opens up a little, not much, about the thick knot of guilt in his stomach, where he knows they won’t get out alive. He tells Kurt about the hope that lives inside his veins, the tiny hope they’ll be smart enough. He doesn’t tell Kurt about the part of him that thinks it’s better this way, better if they die because neither of them are equipped to deal with the aftermath.

He does make Kurt promise to be there for Lumox, to be a friendly face and not a distant one. Tells Kurt how important it was for his willpower last year to have someone who cared. Kurt nudges him, jokes he isn’t going to kiss Lumox and kisses Blaine long and hard to prove a point. Even if he cares for Lumox, acts as a friend and keeps him calm, it won’t be as honest and heartfelt as it was with Blaine. He promises, though this is not the time and place, with Blaine it was different. Special.

“It wasn’t because you were my first tribute,” he breathes between their lips, “it was because it was you. It’s always you.”

It’s all the reassurance Blaine needs for now, they’ll talk about this later, but the nagging feeling of unease around Kurt at least disappears and in Kurt’s arms he’s able to find some kind of rest that gives him strength for the next morning. He doesn’t think he sleeps per se, but when he opens his eyes he realizes he must have. Kurt is gone, there’s a low rummaging in the dining area that indicates Quinn and Cooper are there already. He checks the alarm clock next to the bed and gets out in a hurry.

The bloodbath is mostly watched from District’s quarters. They all have perfectly fine television sets in all the bedrooms and sitting areas and it’s not until after that victors need to go out and cruise for sponsors. Medicine for their injured, water for those who ran without supplies. He needs to worry about that when, and mostly if, his tributes survive the initial fighting.  
On the screen they see recaps of the boys’ and girls’ interviews, their reapings and the arrivals. In each and every part Katniss Everdeen seems to outshine anyone, she smiles brighter, she’s alight in flames. She’s the most human as them all, calling out to be a volunteer as the first in an outline District. No one from a District as poor as Twelve could ever have the ability and opportunity to train the way career volunteers can. She doesn’t do it to be a hero, to be a celebrity when all of this is over. She does it for her sister, for her little girl. She does it, Blaine realizes most of all, out of love. The way he would take his place for his mother, his father. For Cooper or Quinn. Katniss Everdeen, who loves so dearly she’d risk her life and who is loved so dearly in return by Peeta Mellark, he’d give up his life to get her sponsors. Because thinking about it, that’s the only thing he could have done here. Add more fuel to the fire that is Katniss Everdeen. 

And then the screen changes, Blaine takes his place next to Cooper on the couch and watches the tributes being risen into the Arena. It’s a green one, the golden horn of the Cornucopia bright with sunlight and the open field lined with a forest on the left and a large lake on the right. Something doesn’t seem right, when Blaine looks at it, his stomach starts to churn and he feels as if the breakfast he hasn’t even eaten yet will come right up.

“That’s your Arena.”

As the sixty seconds for the tributes start, they broadcast some images of the Arena and Blaine immediately knows Cooper’s right. That’s his Arena, the one he triumphed in, one year ago next week. He wonders of these games will be as short lived as his, as cold, but it seems like they’ve learned their lesson. People died from hypothermia, there weren’t enough fights. No, though the pine tree forest and the lake are the same, the Arena has very much changed in the past year. If anything, it seems bigger. It’s possible, Arenas are just pieces of land where they form a force field around, one that can help them control the weather.

It’s something the tributes from District 3 had explained to Blaine on the victory tour. It’s how he knows they cranked up the temperature after Pennie’s death, because the Capitol was bored after three days. There were too few fights, and not enough tributes left to make it interesting for very long. Something tells Blaine the games this year will be much longer than last year. This Arena, with the Cornucopia turned 180 degrees, may be the same as last year, these games will not.

“It’s probably because they’re already busy preparing for next year,” Quinn quips, “Quarter Quells always have a very special Arena.”

Blaine wants to react what Quinn says, about it making sense, but before he can his eyes are jerked towards the screen. The countdown has hit zero and the kids are all off their plates. It all seems to happen in slow motion, or maybe that’s how they broadcast it, but it’s slower than Blaine remembers it from his own games and he had to run through snow. A hundred things happen at ones, both in the Arena and inside Blaine. His stomach turns, he’s jerked back in time when he sees the little girl from Eleven circle the Cornucopia and follow Blaine’s footsteps. He’s afraid someone will find her, remember where Blaine had hid, checking if anyone did the same. She climbs up swiftly and hides in the same corner as Blaine had the year before.

Then he sees his own tributes, Jane surprisingly quickly sprinting towards the forest and Lumos. Silly Lumox, running towards the Cornucopia and then diving to a pack he sees on the right. He dives exactly the same time she does, though he’s less lucky. The knife enters his back and the blood he coughs all over Katniss’s face confirms it has punctured his lungs. He falls to the ground, Katniss pries the backpack from him and blocks another knife with it. She slings it over her shoulder and runs off towards the forest.

Blaine’s eyes stay trained on her, in the corner of the screen where they project the tributes not participating in the bloodbath. He’d look for Jane there too, but doesn’t have to. Katniss jumps over her limp body and Blaine wishes he wouldn’t have seen it. the way the girl from Eleven jerked him back to his own bloodbath, seeing Jane lying there with a spear impaled in her dead body brings him right back to Tish. Her body in the white snow, the blood so bright red like Caesar’s hair. 

It’s different with Jane, she’s not in white snow and the spear entered her from behind. She lies face first on the ground, but the spear is still a spear and just like that Blaine has lost his two tributes. He was right, they wouldn’t make it past the bloodbath.

And as the bloodbath settles, Blaine starts to wonder where Kurt might be. He knows Kurt had sent Lumox into the Arena, knows Kurt’s face is the last friendly face the boy saw before he died. Has Kurt had to watch his tribute die alone, in the sterile and blank room under the Arena? Had he watched it somewhere else? He would have had exactly sixty seconds to get somewhere else before the bloodbath started. Did all those people die right over Kurt’s head? Blaine doesn’t know, he’s never thought of it that way. Never realized what must be under the Arena, how that is probably where the gamemakers design the weather and the mutations.

On the screen he sees the bodies of the dead tributes being retrieved, Lumox before Jane. They show some footage of the career pack traveling off into the woods, Peeta Mellark in their tail. Blaine wonders how he convinced them to keep him alive. They show the little girl from Eleven high up in a tree, leaping to another. It makes Blaine smile, the cameras may catch her but he knows she’s amazingly disguised from the hunting tributes on the ground. They show Katniss hiking as far as she possibly can, and all Blaine wants to know is where is Kurt?

They wait all day for the stylists and escort to come home to their floor. The broadcast of the Games in the background, the deaths being recapped over and over again. Jane took a spear through her back trying to run away. She listened, Blaine realizes. She listened and she still died. There’s nothing he could have done for her. Blaine is also sure the spear wasn’t even meant for her. She ran right in front of Katniss and when the spear took her in the back, she fell over as Katniss leaped over her. It was a spear from the boy from District 1. He was obviously aiming for the girl from Twelve. 

When Kurt, Tina and Isabelle finally walk through the door it’s well past dinner time. They hurry Blaine and Quinn through a quick prep and put Blaine in a suit Kurt had designed for his victory tour, and they are taken down to the studio floor. There are eleven deaths from the bloodbath and since both the Nine tributes were amongst them, both Quinn and Blaine will be interviewed. Cooper isn’t an official mentor this year, he just joined them to guide Blaine through his first year. Technically Blaine was Lumox’s mentor, he had nothing to do with Jane but it doesn’t feel like that. 

“What do I tell Caesar?” Blaine asks Kurt. He hadn’t prepared for this, he’d been too busy trying to get the kids to listen, trying to keep them alive, to think any further than that. Of course, he knows every mentor is interviewed after one of their tributes dies but Blaine never realized that was something he would have to do now. 

“Just answer his questions,” Kurt urges and squeezes his shoulder. Blaine knows Kurt wants to do more, maybe kiss him, but they can’t. The Capitol can’t know about them, where they can hurt him when the time comes. He’s long decided he won’t participate in the Capitol’s games, won’t let them buy him the way they try to buy Quinn and Cooper. The way he knows Finnick Odair gives himself up to protect Annie. Aside from that, Blaine doesn’t even know if it’s legal what he and Kurt are doing. He knows love affairs between people from different Districts are forbidden. How could they not be, when traveling between the Districts is forbidden. He wonders how many people are being torn apart, not able to be with whoever they want to be with. He wonders if one day he will be one of them. 

“We need to talk,” he tells Kurt, and Kurt nods. Kurt knows, too, they need to talk about things. They need not be so silent and awkward anymore. They need to know where they stand, what this is and what it is going to be from now on. There’s no telling how long the Games are going to be, though they will surely be longer than Blaine’s, there’s no telling how often they can see each other. 

Blaine barely gets through Caesar’s interview, answers every question honestly and with a vague sense of restraint. He doesn’t tell Caesar about the guilt eating him away, or the way he feels like there are two more deaths on his conscious now. He tells Caesar about the sweet boy, let’s the talk of the quiet girl over to Quinn. He tells Caesar how crazy fan-boyish Lumox had been and that it was a real treat for him to spend his last few days in the Capitol. He doesn’t tell Caesar it’s probably best that he died, because he would have never been able to handle the trauma that comes with surviving the Arena. 

He does tell Kurt, later that night. He tells Kurt about how guilty he feels and his dreams. He’s told Kurt before, but he needs to tell someone again. Someone other than Quinn or Cooper, because they know too well what he is talking about and they are dealing with their own pain. They have just lost tributes too.

“So did I,” Kurt says when Blaine tells him, “I didn’t lose my tribute last year, he won. I didn’t care for Lumox the way I did for you, but I still cared. He was sweet and thought I was awesome. I think he thinks anyone interviewed by Caesar ever is awesome.”

Blaine chuckles, “he really did.”

“But we lost him,” Kurt sighs, “and in a strange way I feel responsible. I know for a fact people will line up to sponsor for the Twelve girl. If I had made him stand out as much…”

“We did everything we could,” Blaine says, “you didn’t make me stand out as much as her and I still won.”

“You were a victor’s brother,” Kurt answers, “and a popular one at that. Plus, April would do anything I said.”

Blaine strokes a soft hand over Kurt’s cheek. He’s missed this, even if it’s maybe a bit misplaced on Kurt’s part, he’s missed them talking. He missed the connection they had and it’s back. With no more tributes to worry about, cruel as it sounds, he feels himself allowing to be close to Kurt again. He crawls up against Kurt’s body where he lies long and stretched on Blaine’s bed. His torso naked, pale and muscled. Well fed, so different than the bodies he sees walking around half naked on the square in Nine during hot summer days. 

With his finger he traces a line along Kurt’s ribs, revels when Kurt shudders beneath him. He kisses softly behind Kurt’s ear and the licks the shell, knowing how it will make Kurt sigh with pleasure. He whispers softly, then, as he watches Kurt’s face. So angelic, so soft and innocent. So unlike any other Capitol person he’s ever met. So real. 

“What is this?” he asks.

“What?”

“Us. What are we?”

Kurt opens his eyes, rolls on his side to face Blaine and cups his cheek. He strokes Blaine’s cheekbone strongly, a bit rough and completely perfect. Kurt’s eyes are green today, even with the silver lines around his eyes more prominent than ever before. The heart at the side of his eye disappears where his face lies int eh soft pillow and everything about him is everything Blaine needs right now. 

“We are two people who care about each other,” Kurt says and he seems transformed, wiser suddenly and it’s the first time Blaine really feels Kurt is older than him. It’s not by much, only four years, but after his Games last year he had always felt as if his life experience had made him older. Still, here in bed it’s Kurt who’s older. Out there in the world, where people die and fight to stay alive is where Blaine is more experienced, but here in this bed in this room where it’s just the two of them it’s Kurt. Kurt has loved before, possibly, and Kurt hasn’t had to think about the safety of his family. Kurt hasn’t had the nightmares, hasn’t had to think about what the Capitol would do to him next to hurt him deeper. Kurt has had time to think about this before. Kurt has the answers.

“We’re two people who can only see each other once a year, we are two people who want badly to see each other more but can’t. You can only travel here on Capitol invitation and I don’t have the status to make an official request for you. My dad does, but I could never ask him because that would require explanation and I can’t have an affair with you unless I pay for it and I don’t want to pay for you because I want everything between us to be of your free will.”

Kurt knows about everything. He knows.

“Besides, I might get outbid and you would still have to come here and be with someone else. As long as I don’t speak up, they won’t see you as desirable. You’re a kid to them, the little brother card has worked to your advantage because they see you the same way Cooper does. You’re their little brother. As soon as someone bids on you it would be different. So I can’t bid on you, because I don’t want to buy or own you and because I’d be outbid. I’d only hurt you.”

“Kurt…-”

“I want to be here, in your bed, every night for as long as we can be and I think that’s what we are. We are two people who want to – but cant be - with each other, so we make the most of what we have for as long as we have it.”

And that’s it, the only thing he can do is press his lips to Kurt’s desperately and cling to his naked back. Kurt opens his mouth willingly and as Blaine licks inside he’s harshly reminded of Kurt’s Capitol status again. A metal stud meets him, he wonders for a bit why anyone would maul their tongues like that but then Kurt glides it along his teeth and winds it around his tongue and he is gone for. Whatever the reason was for Kurt to get his tongue pierced, this is definitely worth it. This is by far the only piercing Blaine could ever imagine having a purpose and god, is that purpose working for him.

He lets Kurt lick inside his mouth, along his jaw and lets Kurt suck his pulse point on his neck, he makes Kurt stop because it can’t show in the morning but Kurt promises he has a cream that will make it fade straight away. So he lets Kurt suck on his neck while he works inside Blaine’s slacks and he lets Kurt be as close to him as possible. He’s missed this, more than anything he’s missed the feel of Kurt’s naked skin on top of his own. The milky paleness against the harsh bronze of Blaine’s chest, Kurt’s smooth torso on top of Blaine’s hairy chest. It’s the first time he’s been like this, having been groomed beyond recognition on the victory tour. He worries for a brief bit, but the way Kurt sucks on his nipples and ignores the hair makes him relax and sink back into the bed to fully enjoy what Kurt is doing.

Days pass in which nothing much happens. Blaine had half expected the train to arrive pretty quickly after their tributes deaths, but it seems that all mentors are obliged to stay until the victor is announced. Cooper introduces Blaine to his friends that he hadn’t yet met on the victory tour. Johanna Mason, a vicious girl who seems angry all the time, takes a liking to Blaine. She ruffles his hair and calls his curls cute. She doesn’t have any tributes left in the Games either and tells Blaine what most of the other mentor’s strategies are. How she listens in on them and then helps out her favorites. She likes Peeta Mellark this year, she says, the way he will do anything to protect the girl from Twelve. She tells him he probably won’t win because protecting someone else is never a good tactic, but it’s an honest one and she appreciates it.

Blaine thinks he understands what she means, winners sometimes have allies and people they care about, but after they die they’re quickly forgotten. He thinks back to his own games, how quickly he’d moved on after Pennies death and he’d only had time to grieve her after he’d won. Peeta wouldn’t be as strong, he’d break once he failed to protect her. He isn’t a victor by far, but he’s an honest boy, he truly loves and so people will support him. He’s determined to get Katniss out and maybe with his protection she will.

Only things turn around when Katniss drops a tracker jacker next on the career pack, including Peeta. One of the boys injures Peeta and no one seems to root for him anymore as he creates an amazing disguise. It’s almost as if the gamemakers forget about the boy as well, he lies there motionless and almost bleeds to death. Blaine just looks at him, watches him and things of Tish's amazing disguise skills. She and Peeta would have gotten along, he reckons.

What’s more interesting is Katniss Everdeen and the girl from eleven, Rue, teaming up. Kurt and Blaine only watch the evenings recaps, spend the rest of their days on the square in front of the tower or on the roof where they’re sure they can’t be overheard. Haymitch lets them up when Quinn says it’s okay, and when he’s sure Effie Trinket is out trying to find sponsors for her tributes. Haymitch seems less drunk than before, and even goes out hunting for sponsors. Something he didn’t do for Pennie and Barse last year, Cooper tells Blaine. Apparently this year’s tributes have a positive effect on him.

Kurt takes a liking to Peeta Mellark as well, especially because of the disguise. He’s a talented boy, Kurt says, only someone who knows about color and patterns and has an eye for it can make a disguise so convincingly. Kurt also likes the way he will do anything to protect Katniss, says he’d do the same for Blaine. Blaine doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’d probably be dead at the bloodbath, because it’s no use. Blaine tries to accept Kurt is a romantic, someone who doesn’t understand the pain and suffering behind all those kills on your name.

When the Games are going for almost two weeks they’re getting to the dangerous side of dull, things very quickly turn. It starts with Katniss and Rue blowing up the Career pack’s food. She gets injured and as Rue goes looking for her, she ends up in a net. The boy from one kills her just before Katniss kills him in return.

Then, she does something no tribute has ever done and probably shouldn’t do. Something Blaine immediately wishes he had done for Pennie. Should have done for her, because she deserved a goodbye just like Rue deserves it. Katniss sings her to sleep, to death, and then covers her in flowers. She sends her off in dignity and makes her death something people know should be grieved. She openly grieves on screen, she holds three fingers out and Blaine, who watches the whole thing happen live on the screens in the square, looks at Haymitch for explanation.

“Dumb girl,” Haymitch mutters, “dumb dumb girl.”

Eventually it’s Johanna Mason who explains to both Kurt and Blaine what it means. That she showed respect, remorse, for Rue’s death. It’s an old sign from District 12 and Katniss Everdeen just made Rue’s loss a real one. She sent her condolences to District 11.

“She’s a strong force, that one,” Johanna says with a tight smile on her face, “she’s exactly what we need.”

The weirdest thing is, Quinn and Cooper seem to completely agree with Johanna. Especially when Katniss gets sent bread and thanks the people from District 11. Blaine agrees there’s something weird about it, as well as amazing, but why they suddenly want her to win he doesn’t understand. If anything, she would probably be better of dead. She’s done things the gamemakers and the Capitol won’t like. Her family is as good as dead, if he understands correctly. Haymitch’s family was killed when he pissed of the Capitol, Quinn’s parents were dead as soon as she refused to be bought. What Katniss did was so much worse, why would they want her to live through all that pain?

The audience in the Capitol is angry, even Isabelle is agitated when they have dinner that night. The Games are boring with the little girl dead and Katniss alone and ready to kill the careers but they won’t come for her. They’re too afraid, everyone is hiding and nothing is happening. Peeta is still disguised and apparently his heart is beating, or there would have been a cannon and his body would have been retrieved by a hovercraft. The bets on who will win go crazy, one day they think it will be Katniss, the other time they think Peeta might just outlive everyone. Thinks they will murder each other out and forget all about the boy from Twelve. 

And then Cooper gets an idea, says they really need Katniss to win because Eleven has set things in motion and he doesn’t realizes he says it with Blaine and Kurt present. He runs to the elevator and lets himself up to the twelfth floor to talk to Haymitch. When he gets back he only says he thinks it might work. Sure enough, about an hour later a voice booms around the Arena announcing that two tributes can win as long as they are from the same District.

They first show the boy and girl from Two, who are in a hiding place together. They high five and start discussing plans, but what Cooper had hoped for happens later. Katniss hears the announcement, screams out Peeta’s name and immediately starts her search for him. Blaine tries to get the Capitol’s reaction from Kurt, assumes the rest of the audience will react vaguely the same way he does and they’re not disappointed. Everyone roots for the star crossed lovers, who suddenly aren’t so star crossed anymore.

Whatever the reason is that Katniss is so important to Cooper, Quinn and Johanna, it works. The first night Peeta and her are together they get sent broth. It makes Blaine nauseaus just a tiny bit. He’s not been able to stand any broth since he left his Arena, but he understands it’s something Peeta needs right now. Salty, liquid, things to get stronger. Blaine notices before Katniss does that Peeta has a fever, and he also notices whatever Katniss shows in affection isn’t real. She’s playing this, to get sponsors. If only the sponsors will fall for it the way no one in their team seems to do.

Apart from Kurt, who seems the be infatuated by the love affair on screen.

When a feast is announced, Haymitch stumbles into their quarters without announcing himself. He grabs Cooper by the arms and shakes him thoroughly.

“Tell me how you got the medicine last year,” he says, “the prices have gone up and no one wants to buy them anything.”

“They’re getting medicine at the feast,” Kurt looks puzzled.

“He won’t let her go,” Haymitch says.

“I don’t think the gamemakers will like it if you send it while they can retrieve it at the feast?”

“They either need medicine or I need to find a way to make the boy let her go.”

“She could go when he’s asleep,” Quinn brings up, smiling wickedly and Haymitch turns from Cooper to her, grabs her and kisses her square on the mouth. She doesn’t respond, ignores Cooper’s angry glare and laughs.

The end of the games are nearing, with only six tributes alive, so the prices of the gifts have gone up tremendously. People are willing to send food and small gear like matches but sleep syrup is so extremely expensive it would take some extreme convincing to get someone to send it. If everyone in the room chipped in, they would probably have enough but mentors and stylists aren’t allowed to give anything and it would also cost them two months of winning money. They’d go hungry back home, which hasn’t happened since Cooper won the Games.

“I agreed to watch the recap with my friend April tonight,” Kurt says. Blaine can see on every angle of his featiure that he is lying. “Anyone care to join me? You’re welcome too, Haymitch, if you want.”

Haymitch waves it off at first, but when Cooper nonchalantly asks if that’s the friend who sponsored Blaine last year he quickly joins them. April lives across the street, is thankfully drunk enough to be able to think she was the one who forgot plans and then offers them all a share on her whiskey. Haymitch is the only one who takes it. 

Quinn lays it on thick, talks about how devastating it is that Peeta will die and Katniss will have to face the team from District 2 on her own. Heartbroken and alone. April weeps exactly at the moment Quinn wants her too, and Blaine is only a tiny bit annoyed when Kurt seems just as affected. Cooper turns into a charming young man Blaine has never met before, he plays the celebrity card like a champion. He knows exactly which buttons to push to make April giggle shyly, he seems to have this act down to a perfection Blaine has never seen him use. It almost makes him sick, the way his brother transforms into a douchebag first class without the person he’s being a douchebag too noticing. He plays April’s interest in him to a finesse, making sure she’d do anything he’d ask of her. 

“If only there was a way he would let her go to the feast to get his medicine,” Cooper says, “but the only way is if he was in the same state as Haymitch is now.”

“It’s because the booze,” April says, “she’d have to get a lot of alcohol in him to get him to sleep like that.”

Haymitch snores a little louder for show, and it makes everyone laugh though April is the only one who thinks it’s adorable. The others just know how fake it as and how bad of an actor Haymitch is, especially when drunk.

“I can only sleep like that when I get sleep syrup,” Blaine says and April’s face lights up.

“I could send her sleep syrup, he’d be asleep within seconds and she could go!”

They ‘wake’ Haymitch, and April is too far gone to notice how easily they do. He signs the papers, which Blaine and Kurt then rush to the gift center. It’s scanned, made sure that it’s Haymitch and April are the ones who signed it and they set things in motion. Getting back to their quarters, Isabelle is out for the night and Cooper and Quinn seem to still be at April’s. She’s probably keeping them there to talk to them, celebrities from District 9. It’s the first time Blaine and Kurt have the floor to themselves and they curl up on the couch, watch a redheaded girl hide herself inside the Cornucopia for the feast and then they see Katniss receive their cough syrup. She feeds it and soon Peeta is fast asleep. She gets some rest too, and as all the tributes are done preparing their plans and settling for sleep, Kurt and Blaine too decide to head to bed.

“Do you think their love will survive outside the Arena?” Kurt asks as soon as Blaine is settled next to him.

“You do know she doesn’t love him, right?”

“Oh come on, they’ve been kissing like two hormone filled teenagers!”

“Because she knows sponsors will fall for it the way April did,” Blaine says. But Kurt is a romantic, he wants to believe in love and so he does. He wants to believe in a force stronger than survival, stronger than the need to live and he thinks that’s why Katniss is out there trying to save Peeta. Not because his death would be the worst of all, knowing he could have lived along next to you if you’d just tried to save him. Blaine knows he’d have done anything to save Tish, had he known they both had a chance of survival. It’s one less death on your conscious, it’s got nothing to do with love.

“What would they need to do to convince you, huh, have sex on screen?” Kurt asks teasingly, running a finger along Blaine’s sensitive side. Blaine giggles.

“With his fever? No, I think they’d better not. He’d overheat.”

“How about you? Do you have something that needs taken care of, Blaine?”

Kurt drops his hand into Blaine’s slacks, cups him and presses him down on the bed with his other hand.

“How about I see if I can overheat you the way she overheats him? Maybe then you’ll believe me they really love each other.”

Blaine laughs, outright laughs and lets Kurt strip him off his clothes. Kisses him back eagerly when Kurt kisses him and lets Kurt devour his body the way he has been every night since the Games have started. It wears him out, in the best, most satisfying way and he wonders how he’ll ever sleep soundly again without Kurt next to him. He probably won’t. It’s dumb and stupid, but the Games will forever be the best part of his year, the time where he will get to sleep with and next to Kurt.

And it’s how they fall asleep, no more Katniss and Peeta on their minds. No more feast, just the two of them naked and pressed together. Nothing separating them and fully content. They lie like that, peacefully, until morning comes and a rough voice interrupts them.

“Clove’s dead!”

Cooper takes in the sight in the bed before him, Blaine realizes too late Cooper has a perfect view of Kurt’s naked back and perfect round butt. He covers them up quickly, nudges Kurt to turn around he greets Cooper awkwardly.

“Sitting area, now.”

They both listen to Cooper immediately, getting dressed in a haze and joining him in the sitting area. Cooper’s expression is strict, but not judging and he is almost scarily composed as he addresses them.

“I’m not happy you hid from me,” he says, “I always had a feeling. I’m trusting your judgment, Blaine, but I need you to know that you have to be very careful about who you’re with in this place. The Capitol is full of nasty people and getting in with the wrong one might just get everyone you love killed.”

“He’d be one of them,” Blaine shrugs and takes Kurt’s hand, “I wish I could explain, but there’s just something inside that tells me I need to be with him. I’m not sure why, but I felt it the first second I saw him and I know he’s trustworthy. No one knows except for you and Quinn.”

And that’s it, Cooper does give them a few angry and suspicious glances throughout the day but he mostly retrieves with Quinn and takes her out to talk to Johanna Mason. Something big is about to happen, Blaine knows and he thinks that the time they have been talking about might be nearing. Whatever his brother, father and Quinn have been hiding from him might come to a light with Katniss Everdeen winning. They need her, for something, that much is clear. What for it is isn’t clear yet, but they need her and Blaine will find out why.

It happens so quickly, no one was really prepared for the events happening. The boy from Two kills the boy from Eleven, the girl eats Peeta’s poisoned berries and just like that it’s two against one. The boy and girl from Twelve against the boy from Two. The wolves appear out of nowhere, Cooper presses Blaine to his side as soon as he sees them, holds him tight and keeps telling him it’s not real.

It all feels very real. This is his Arena. The lake isn’t frozen and the wolves are about twice as big as the ones Blaine had to fight, but it’s all real as they chase the boy down the lake towards the Cornucopia, where he runs into Peeta and Katniss. They run after him and before they know it they’re all atop the Cornucopia, they end their Games where Blaine had started them. They fight, the boy kidnaps Peeta and then Katniss takes him out. They wait, have to wait until his heart stops beating until they can call themselves the victors of the 74th Hunger Games, but it’s real. This year two tributes have won.

Until they haven’t. 

The announcement angers everyone in the room, as well as down on the square. They can hear the angry chants all the way up on the ninth floor. Katniss has her arrow pointed at Peeta, who seems just about ready to drive a knife into his own stomach. He’d do that, he’d kill himself to save her. He must really love her. Blaine knows now he was right. The way she’s ready to kill him, she can’t nearly love him as much as he loves her. 

“They have to have their victor,” Peeta says.

They can practically see Katniss do the math in her head, before she takes out the berries. They need a victor. They can’t both die, so if they threaten to they’ll both survive. It’s the Capitols choice. Either have no victor or have two. They need their victor.

“This keeps getting better and better,” Cooper says as they watch Peeta and Katniss being hauled into the hovercraft. They’ve won. There are two victors this year and it’s perfect. They’re not in love, Katniss was just about ready to kill Peeta until she realized he’d do it himself. She couldn’t live with that. She made the Capitol crown them both victor. They see her slamming against a glass wall when Peeta’s heart stops, and for a second Blaine thinks she might actually love him, but quickly throws the thought away and knows she must care, but not love. Of course she’s upset his heart stops when she just saved his life. They revive him and the screen goes black, then Caesar and his lilac hair grace the screen.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he says proudly, “there is a first for everything and this year I am happy to announce we have two victors! How about that, huh, the star crossed lovers of District 12 can go home together.”

Blaine wonders what kind of home she’ll go to. Of course, one of the houses in Twelve’s Victor Village with her mother and her sister. Her sister, who she volunteered for. The girl she fought for, the girl she won for. Katniss Everdeen, in her first year being attached to the Games, has saved two lives. Her sister’s and Peeta Mellark’s. Blaine, in his two years, has saved none but, selfishly, his own.

Kurt, who’d been away for the last day to spend it with his father, storms into the Nine quarters out of breath and dishevelled.

“You have to warn Haymitch!” he yells, “they’re blaming her for unrest in the Districts and they’re going to kill her if she doesn’t calm it down!”

“She’s not allowed to know, you’re not even allowed to know,” Kurt says, “I overheard my father talking to his friend. They’re planning something about it, but the Capitol is angry and my father and his friend are worried for Katniss. They know she doesn’t love him..-”

“So you believe me now?”

“I think that was obvious when she almost shot that arrow through him, I would never shoot you.” Kurt answers, then continues. “The Districts know she doesn’t love him, they know it was a game with the Capitol and they know she won and now they think they can win, too.”

“We need to tell Haymitch to warn her,” Blaine says hurriedly, pressing the button for the elevator to come repeatedly. It doesn’t come quick enough.

“No,” Cooper says strictly, “wait here, we all need to talk.”

It’s so easy to listen to Cooper when he uses his authority, as if he was born with it. If he wasn’t a victor, Blaine thinks he would have done well as a teacher at school.

“We needed Katniss to win because of this,” Cooper starts as soon as Quinn joins them. They lace hands and Kurt looks so surprised, then awes and takes Blaine’s hand in his. Cooper nudges to their hands, then, too. “Katniss, the girl on fire, she has set things in motion. People are sick and tired of the Capitol taking away their choices. No one can choose their own profession. Like how I want to be a teacher, I’m not allowed. I’m a victor and that’s all they’ll ever let me be. Quinn wants to be a mother but she can’t, knowing they’ll send our kids in that Arena. When we refuse something they lay on us, they punish us. For the longest time I waited for an accident for you, Blaine, but instead they sent you into the Arena and you survived. You haven’t done anything wrong since, unless you count a secret affair with your stylist, so your loved ones are mostly safe. But if they find out, they’ll kill Kurt.”

Kurt inhales sharply, squeezes Blaine’s hand and moves closer. As if to prove the death threat doesn’t faze him, that he’ll want to be with Blaine regardless. Blaine would reassure him that it’s fine, that it won’t happen, but he’s too busy listening to Cooper to do anything more than squeeze back.

“We can’t choose what we want to do and we can’t choose who we want to do it with. It’s not only us, as victors or stylists, it’s anyone. Here in the Capitol people don’t notice because there’s enough money and your profession is decided on your talent, but what if Kurt hadn’t wanted to be a designer, a stylist?”

“I’d had to,” Kurt says, “in school they make you take all the subjects and then when they find out your talent you’re put there.”

“Exactly, you never chose this, but you’re good at it and it pays your bills so you never questioned it. It isn’t like that in the Districts. We work our butts off, we do anything we can to gather money and then all our hard work gets shipped to the Capitol. There’s hardly enough food for anyone and I just know it from District 9 first hand. I know it’s worse in other Districts. And the punishments are harsh, when you do something they don’t like they hurt you, they murder you if they think it’s bad enough. They hurt your family if they can’t hurt you for some reason. Like the victors, like Peeta said. They have to have their victors. We’re public figures, they can’t hurt us, they need us, so they hurt our families, our friends.”

“Just.. what are you saying?” Blaine asks, getting the vague impression calming the Districts down isn’t what Cooper is aiming for. Blaine tries to imagine it, people fighting. How many people would die, how many people would fall? And would it be worth it?

“Katniss, she’s started the revolution without even knowing,” Cooper says. Revolution, Blaine has heard that word before. Right before his favorite teacher got dragged off by two peacekeepers to never return again. A revolution, a time in which society changes for the better. A time where the residents of a country decide they’ve had enough. A time where people stand up against the government. Is it time? Is Panem a place that needs a revolution, is Panem ready to change, forever and for the better? Blaine supposes Katniss Everdeen made sure it is.

“I’ll warn Haymitch,” Cooper says, “but in time we need to tell Katniss about this. She needs to know what she has started. Our father, Quinn and I have been waiting for this opportunity a long time. Just three people can’t start a revolution, you need a spark and the girl on fire has made sure it was her. She defied the Capitol in every way. She, a simple girl from Twelve, volunteered for her sister. She stood out and was on fire, she gave a young girl from Eleven a death to remember and she broke barriers between Districts, when she thanked Eleven. She made two people survive. She’s a rebel without knowing she is. We need her. I’ll tell Haymitch to keep her in check for now, but in time she needs to be the face of the revolution.”

Blaine doesn’t point out they’re doing the same as the Capitol does now, making the decision for the girl. Not giving her an option, forcing her to be the face of their plans. He supposes they need it, it’s for the greater good. Maybe he’s always seen this coming, the way Quinn and Cooper refused to play the Capitols games. He understands why his father had been so distant, felt so guilty, when he got sent into the Arena. He blamed himself. He makes a note to himself, tell his father there’s nothing to be sorry for. Panem needs to change, everything needs to change and Blaine will join them in the fight. 

“I need to call my father,” Kurt says. Blaine had almost forgotten he was there and for a short while Blaine thinks he’s going to rat them out, but then Kurt turns to Cooper.

“That word, revolution. My father used it too. He said ‘this is the time to start the revolution, we need Katniss before Snow decides to kill her’. My father is high up in the government, he is in direct contact with Snow and I know he hates him. Ever since they killed my mother, he’s wanted things to change. I never knew it was to this extent, but I think you need him.”

Kurt goes to his room to use the phone in there, and meanwhile Cooper informs Blaine in who has been in this little secret club of them. Johanna Mason, obviously, Finnick Odair and Seeder and Chaff from Eleven. They can’t do much without the Districts cooperating, but there seems to have been a start. Things will really go from here. Cooper says he trusts Kurt, though they have to be careful, and that if the things about his father are true they’ll have a real chance now. If not, he warns, they’ll all be dead in 24 hours. Blaine has felt the fear of dying before, he supposes if he can take all that way from any child in the future, he’ll take the chance now.

Burt Hummel arrives not much later, with another man in tow. Blaine recognizes him from the rating panel, he’s a gamemaker. Blaine doesn’t trust it at first, but Burt Hummel grabs him by his shoulders and hugs him tight. 

“So you’re the boy who’s had my boy so happy lately?” he asks, to which Blaine dumbly nods.

“Listen,” he orders, doesn’t beat around the bush when he says: “they killed my wife because she was very outspoken about what she thought of the Games. I agree with her, Snow needs to go and rules need to change. My friend here, thinks so too. He’s a gamemaker and he doesn’t like it one bit. He wants things to change, I want things to change. You all want to change, so let’s start that.”

Cooper holds out his hand, introduces himself as Blaine’s big brother and Quinn smiles sweetly as she shakes both the men’s hands. She introduces herself as Cooper’s girlfriend, which is probably the first time in her life she’s been able to do that. Blaine kisses her cheek and squeezes her hand, before extending his hand to the round man next to Burt Hummel.

“I’m Blaine,” he says, “Blaine Anderson.”

“Plutarch Heavensbee,” the man answers, “pleased to meet you Blaine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update on the 7th of January!


	6. Chapter 5

Blaine had to say goodbye to Kurt sooner than he wanted, with the Games over and no victor for District 9, there was no reason for Kurt to stay in the quarters for another night. They’d hugged briefly, shared a quick kiss when no one was looking, after which Kurt left with his father and Plutarch Heavensbee. 

The first night without Kurt had been uncomfortable for Blaine, as had the train ride back to the District. Nothing, though, could have prepared him for what was awaiting them there. Peacekeepers flooded the place and at some point Blaine believed there were more of them in the District than there were actual habitants. Nine isn’t a big District by any means, but there are several villages outside the center of the District, each of them about twenty minutes apart from each other by car. Last year Blaine hadn’t paid much attention on the train, still occupied with his victory, but this year he sees it.

They rush past villages and factories, and it wouldn't seem like much if the peacekeepers weren't so obvious in their clear white uniforms. The closer they get to the center of the District, known as Center Village to the people living there, the slower the train passes the villages. It's a little past 8 o'clock, children are playing outside with their mothers and fathers seem to be coming home from the factory or other jobs they might have. With every group of people, there are at least two peacekeepers around. Blaine's seen them before, the peacekeepers, but not in these numbers and never so strict.

Blaine grew up in Victor Village, mostly, and doesn't remember much from the years before Cooper won the Games. Victor Village is a short walk away from Center Village, where the richest people from the District locate. Nine's head peacekeeper, Shannon Beiste, has always been a nice enough woman. She buys sweets from Tish's father and has a big garden with chickens behind her house. As they roll into the station at the Justice Building, Blaine knows her days are over.

She stands at the platform the way she stood last year, but she is surrounded by five others and instead of hugging Blaine and congratulating him, she offers him one minute to say goodbye to Isabelle and then he's rushed into a car. They're home about five minutes later.

They enter the house, Cooper almost starts talking but his father grabs Blaine by the shoulders and hugs him close, while slapping his back in a friendly matter.

“So good to see you, boy.”

There's something strange about their father, something doesn't quite add up. Sure, this is completely different from the distance that Blaine has felt since his name was reaped from the bowl, but there's something else about him. Something pleading, almost desperate, as he clings to Blaine. It's strange, feels like the hug is a year overdue, but he revels in it anyway. He's missed his father, missed closeness and needs it now. It's not until his father whispers in his ear he understands the house must have been bugged, they're listening.

“What has Cooper told you?” he asks.

“That you want things to change,” he answers immediately. He needs his father to know what he knows. Needs to let his father know he's ready to fight. “That Katniss Everdeen might be the face of change.”

“She is,” his father confirms softly, “people have been angry. Peacekeepers have been sent to keep them in range. Not much has happened here, but with the rules being forced more than usual I know it has been in other places.”

“I'm going to fight,” Blaine says. His fathers hugs him closer, kisses his cheek and lets him go. He moves on to Cooper, tells him it's good to see him to and their hug lasts much longer. They have more to talk about in secret than his father had with Blaine. Quinn's hug after Cooper lasts about as long as Blaine's.

“Cooper will fill you in on everything that's happened here when you were gone,” his father tells her and that's when Blaine knows he knows about them. He wonders if he's known longer than Blaine, that they were in love, and how he learned about it. Did Quinn tell him, the same way she told Blaine? Or did he figure it out on his own? Blaine thinks he probably might have, because as soon as she told Blaine it had just been this thing that made sense. Cooper and Quinn, they belong together the same way his mother and father do. The same way he and Kurt do. 

Without any clear instructions from his – or Kurt's- father, Blaine resumes to his life in Victor Village the same way he did last year. The days are long, with nothing to do and more than before the need to do something. Victor's don't work, they get money from the Capitol and spend their time working on their talents. Or at least, that's what the people of Panem think the victor's do. Blaine, with his victory tour long over, doesn't have to broadcast his talent anymore. Of course he still loves the grand piano the Capitol got him, a victory gift, and he occasionally plays it, but he can't spend days on end sitting on a piano bench.

He, Cooper and Quinn take up walks to Center Village, they visit the main square and little shops daily. Peacekeepers flood the place and though they're not doing anything illegal, they feel like they're being watched more than before. They buy more than they need from every shop, make sure people keep having an income now people from villages across the District are too afraid to come in. Blaine wonders how they feed themselves at times. Before Cooper had won the Games, they had lived in a far off village near the border of the District and his mother once told him she would walk to Center Village once a month to get supplies. 

Grain, of course, they could get from the factory his dad worked at, but a family couldn't survive on grain alone and so she'd go into town. There were trades back home as well, trading grain for the neighbor's eggs and chickens for meat. Blaine can't imagine that life anymore, but he knows it's a ridiculous life. Rules in the District are ridiculous, he sees that now.

It's always been a thing that just was, shops are only allowed in Center Village. Every factory is accompanied by a small village where the employees live. Boys and girls go to the school in their village, a week after their tenth birthday they enter the factory for two afternoons a week, still have school the rest of the week. On their sixteenth birthday they discontinue school, work in the factory full time. Until a girl is pregnant, she'll stop working at all. It's how it was, how it is, unless you live in Center – or Victor Village. There is no factory here, only shops, the school and the Justice Building.

After Cooper won the Games and they moved to Victor Village, both Cooper and his father were forced to stop working at the factory. Until now Blaine has never wondered what really happened to Quinn's parents. It was said to be an accident at the factory, but he is too afraid to ask her. Afraid he'll break her when she is reminded. Blaine, being only six years old when Cooper won, changed schools and that's one of the first things he remembers of moving to the Center of the District. 

Everything was different, especially what they taught in school. He doesn't remember much from before Cooper's Games, but he remembers school. He remembers they taught about the factories and what happened there. He remembers being taught about Panem and the Dark Days, which resulted in the Hunger Games. He remembers having to sing the Panem anthem every morning before class and he remembers the bell ringing at twelve o'clock, announcing lunch and departure for kids above ten years old. They were to leave the school for their factory shifts. 

Going to school in Center Village, they taught different things. He still had to sing the anthem every morning and he still had to learn all about President Snow's greatness but he also got taught about maths and languages and when he was twelve his teacher started telling them about the universe. The stars and how they live on a planet called earth, that rotates around the sun. Blaine had always been amazed by her, and her knowledge, and still wonders where she is now.

She was probably the first person who made him feel like things weren't right in Panem, and she might be the reason Blaine was so quick to believe Cooper when he told Blaine things could be different. When he was twelve, apart from learning about the universe, she also told them about an old place called America. She told them about other countries in the world, about a place much larger than Panem where people had choices. To Blaine, at the age of twelve, it had sounded like a fairytale but he knows now that whether she was right or wrong, he needs Panem to be more like that.

He understands now why she was dragged off the way she was. It had been an ordinary Wednesday in the winter. Blaine had sat next to a friend, he thinks it might have been the blond boy named Sam, and miss Holiday had been reading them a story during intermission. It was too cold to go outside, snow had been blazing across the schoolyard and they were still inside. She was reading a fairytale about a princess that lived under water, who wanted nothing more than to live on land, when the two peacekeepers had burst into the classroom. Ms. Holiday had closed her book carefully, put it down quietly and said “I'll cooperate.”

Thinking back, Blaine thinks she knows why they were there. That they were picking her up because she taught them about a better time, thought she was raising these children to be her allies in an overtaking of the government. She cooperated knowing she'd be taken away and most likely killed. She didn't want to scar the children, wanted everything bad to start when she was out of sight of her students.

Of course, the peacekeepers were instructed differently. The first one took his lash and had her smacked to the ground with it before she could raise her arms to defend herself. The other one kicked and hit her repeatedly. She took it all, bravely and maybe even with a smug smile on her face. She was dragged away, winked at the children as she was, and the head of school had walked into the classroom with the fragile Ms Pillsbury right after. 

He had explained that Miss Holiday was arrested because she was selling nonsense to her pupils, that they were to forget anything she had told them about a weird, far off place called America. That it was, like the story she was reading, a fairy tale and nothing more than that. Blaine knows now it wasn't. Because fairy tales end in happily ever after, and the story about America didn't. 

He knows now he's going to fight to get all of that back. It's difficult, of course, to organize an uprising and a rebellion at that, but it's what needs to happen. For her, for miss Holiday and her bravery and for every person like her trying. Blaine, Kurt, Cooper, Quinn, with the cooperation from their Capitol insiders, they'll succeed.

Going into town with Cooper and Quinn every day helps a little. They can talk to shopkeepers, they feel the tension among them as well, and they learn Katniss has done more than they could have ever expected. Of course, the arrival of the peacekeepers has made people suspicious as to why they're here and Shannon Beiste turns out to be a perfect source for that.

She's in her uniform more often than not these days, and one day she stops Blaine and Quinn as they walk towards the bakery, where Cooper is buying bread for the old lady who lives outside the Justice Building. Beiste asks them to halt for her, then formally requests to have a look into their bags. There's nothing illegal in there, if that's what she hopes to find, so they'll give it to her obligingly and wait for what she has to say.

“Ever since the Games there's been some trouble in other Districts,” she says, “so I got some extra colleagues. We're cricking up the security. We don't want any trouble here, now, do we?”

“We really don't,” Quinn says with a sly smile. Blaine giggles when he sees Beiste slide a few candy canes into the inside of her uniform. She hands Quinn her bag back, then takes Blaine's and she smuggles a pack of bacon inside her uniform from that one. It's not like they'll miss either, but it seems weird that she just takes it from them. Still, Blaine doesn't say anything about it because she's head peacekeeper and therefore has the power to decide on her own if Blaine deserves a whipping for speaking up.

She hands Blaine's bag to him again, pats his shoulder and gestures for them to move forward. Blaine is just about to open his mouth as Quinn starts to speak.

“She's in,” Quinn says, “she's from District 2 and she was forced to be a peacekeeper because of her strength. She never liked it.”

Blaine looks at Quinn in disbelief, but supposes it makes sense that peacekeepers aren't all from the Capitol. If the amount of people in white uniforms around the square right at this moment indicates anything, the Capitol wouldn't have a single person left to keep the place running. Besides, getting peacekeepers on their team would help them. 

“She had to get rid of her chickens,” Quinn explains, “she's trading information for food. Whenever she stops us, give her your bag and let her take whatever she wants. Listen to everything she says carefully because it might be useful.”

“What about that was useful?” Blaine wonders.

“She told us there's trouble in other Districts. With communication between the Districts forbidden, we need to figure it out a different way. She has ties with other peacekeepers, with the Capitol. She knows.”

“She'll pretend to search our bags?”

“Yes.”

And so another person is added to their team of rebels. Cooper and Quinn fill Blaine in on everything that has been going on so far, how the roof on the training center has been their go to place ever since talks of revolution started. How after Haymitch had shown it to Quinn, she'd shown it to Cooperm and then to Finnick Odair. They have used it since, after the tributes entered the Arena, to talk about things the Capitol wasn't allowed to hear. Effie Trinket stupidly enough admitted to Haymitch the roof wasn't bugged.

Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair and Haymitch. They're all aware of the rebelling plans and with Beiste, Heavensbee and the Hummel boys on their side they stand a chance. It's nearly impossible to communicate with Kurt or Burt, though, because with his father already suspected their conversations are being monitored in their own home, he's certain their phones are being tapped. Whatever they say, however they communicate, it has to be cryptic and sporadic. It's not the way Blaine wishes it would be, but just getting to talk to Kurt at all is a privilege and so he makes do.

“How are you?” Kurt asks, the first time they speak after the Games. It's three weeks later and Blaine decided he'd waited long enough. He could call now without the Capitol being suspicious.

“We're okay,” Blaine answers, including his family though he knows fully well Kurt intended the question just for him, “we're having a bug problem, though.”

“Yes,” Kurt answers, “I guess it's this summer, we have it too.”

There isn't a bug problem in District 9 and Blaine knows from the way Kurt says it there isn't a bug problem in the Capitol either. No, they both just know they're being tapped, their conversations are being listened to and they need to be careful with what they say. Everything has changed, with just one girl from District 12 stirring up some trouble, the whole dynamic Kurt and Blaine had carefully built over the previous year fails with the need to filter their thoughts and words. 

“Are you still having trouble with your colleague?” Blaine asks.

“No, he's been busy designing pretty dresses for young girls,” Kurt answers and Blaine immediately recalls Katniss's dress for the interview. It was laced, she had pretty bows in her hair and the dress made her look younger than she ever had in the Arena.

“They're all a bit innocent,” Kurt adds, “I don't really like them.”

It's hard, reading into Kurt's words but Blaine thinks he knows what Kurt means, that they're not helping the rebellion. That instead of fighting, they're trying to subdue. She knows she's in danger, she's listening to the Capitol and trying to appease them.

It gets more clear as the time goes on, what they see of Katniss is a pretty girl and sickingly in love with Peeta. Blaine sees every fake smile she throws his way and wonders how the Capitol doesn't see it. He would never look at Kurt that way, Kurt has never looked at him this way. He's never seen Cooper or Quinn have a smile so forced when they share a look. It's fake, so fake and the Capitol people eat it right up.

As time goes on, Blaine and Kurt find ways to communicate without being too bold, too forward. Sending each other letters is too risky, they'll be read before they'll be delivered and if they are intercepted and their code language understood, their cooperation in the rebellion will be in print. They manage a calling schedule of every three weeks, though, and through talking about minor day to day things they manage to update each other on things going on throughout Panem.

Head peacekeeper Beiste gets knocked down to a regular status when autumn falls, in her place comes a peacekeeper named Sue Sylvester. Center Village is still mostly quiet, but people go hungry when people from the factory villages stop coming in. Tish's mother manages to confirm three of the twenty factories throughout the District have been closed already, and when Kurt says they're still getting bread and cereal easily in the Capitol, Blaine suspects other Districts go hungry as well. 

Kurt tells Blaine about what is and isn't easy to get in the Capitol, confirming a heavy uprising in Eight and smaller troubles in other Districts. Blaine tells Kurt about the new peacekeepers, about Tish's father's business going slow. He can't tell Kurt about the three factories being closed, doesn't know why they are closed. He wishes he could visit the villages, see how the villagers are doing but there isn't an occasion until his mother announces she's going to visit some old relatives.

Cooper arranges the Mayor's car, apparently Cooper is close friends with him. When Cooper puts on that ridiculously charming smile he seems to be friends with anyone. Blaine knows there aren't any relatives left in their family. His father's brother died before either he or Cooper were born and his mom was an only child. All his grandparents were gone before they were born, too, and he's never met any of his far away cousins. Now, his mother announces she's meeting up with a cousin who just gave birth to a baby.

Arriving at their old village, there is no cousin with a baby. Sure enough they run into a woman walking around with a child and when Cooper walks up to her and asks her if she can show them to her house, she's happy to take them with her. Inside her tiny cottage they find an older woman lying on a bed, there's a tiny stove and that's it. One bed for her, her mother-in-law, her baby and her husband. 

Blaine unloads his bag of food for her, though there's not much in it. He gave most of it to Tish's father when he visited the shop. With the factories closed and less money going around, with people too afraid to cross the peacekeepers in fear of a whipping for something they didn't do, the sweetshop has been the first to lose customers. Bread, meat, things like that are a necessity, sweets aren't. With no more money to buy things, sweets are the first to be cut off the budget. 

The woman, Halina, offers them some water in exchange but none of them can make themselves to take it. She keeps pressing, wants to do something in return when Cooper grabs her hand and looks her in the eye.

“The only thing we want is information ,” he says, “tell me what's going on.”

She confirms what Blaine already suspected, the factory in this village is still open and running. People have jobs, but their hours are expanded and their wages are cut. She tells them people across the village are housing people from other villages, where apparently the factories are closed and people are starving. Here they make do with the chickens and the goats, eat their eggs and drink their milk. They sometimes hunt out in the field a little while away from the village but the numbers of rabbits and ducks are quickly decreasing. She bemoans she´s not even able to properly feed her baby because she herself is underfed. 

Blaine wishes he could offer her money, but it´s no use. She is in no condition to walk the five hours to Center Village and here in the outer villages shops don't exist. Halina asks them to stay for dinner, says her husband will be able to tell them more. He works in the factory six days a week, for ten hours a day and he talks to the other people in the factory. Blaine, Cooper and their mom share a short look which decides they'll wait. 

When six o'clock strikes, a loud bong across the village announces closing time. A few peacekeepers start roaming the street outside Halina's house immediately. Blaine wonders where they sleep, where they live when they're in the outskirts of District 9 every evening. Ever since he's found out about Shannon Beiste and her not being from the Capitol, he has started to think differently about peacekeepers. What are their stories? And how did they get to be the Capitols slaves even more than anyone else has ever been?

He doesn't get to wonder for long, because soon a dark skinned man enters Halina's house. He looks around slightly concerned and about ready to throw the two victors and their mom out on the street, before Halina stands on her tiptoes and kisses him softly.

“Hello darling,” she says, “isn't it nice that my old cousin decided to come visit the new baby?”

Her husband looks confused, obviously aware Halina has no cousins and with two victors sitting on his floor, he seems to think this is some trick of the Capitol. He looks around outside, waiting for peacekeepers to come to his door and when they all pass his house with no meaning of entering it he closes the door.

It doesn't offer much protection, two windows are still broken and the walls are made of thin wood, but it gives them a sense of privacy and concealment. Cooper risks everything when the husband still doesn't seem convinced, and spills the beans.

“We're in a rebelling movement, we have ties in the Capitol but with Nine's factories and population spread all over the District rather than centered we lack a lot of information on how willing the people are to rebel. We need information, inside information.”

“From the factories?”

“What people are saying,” Cooper confirms, “whether we can count on District 9 going into rebellion anytime soon.”

The man, or boy really, he can't be much older than Blaine, still looks uncertain. Cooper might be great at convincing women, or boys like in the Capitol, who fall for charm in every form. Here, they would have needed Quinn. One sweet smile, a bat of her eyelashes and Blaine thinks the man would have told her everything. Instead he looks out the broken window, unconvinced and certain peacekeepers are about to barge in on him.

“I'm not joining in on what they're saying,” he says eventually, “I have a child to think about.”

“Of course,” Blaine's mother speaks up, “you're our family. If anything happens to the factory, we'll provide for you. You know that right?”

This seems to gain the boy's trust a little. Maybe it's because his mother isn't a victor, not as Capitol influenced as people tend to think victors are, or maybe it's because in a very unconventional way she's bribing the boy with her sons' money. Blaine doesn't mind, knows Cooper doesn't care either. These three people live in this place with a baby, no money and rarely any food. Even if it's not actual money but food they send, anything they can get in any way how must help them.

“Just tell them, Tom.”

Blaine had forgotten all about the old woman sleeping on the bed. She had been so quiet, and he had been so focused on what the man was going to do. The old woman puts her hand on Cooper's shoulder and squeezes it.

“I remember this boy,” she says, “any victor who looks like this but doesn't have a string of lovers in the Capitol can be trusted.”

She knows. 

Cooper's face is just as alarmed as Blaine's, his mother's face is mostly confused but the boy seems to trust his mother's judgment and settles down next to Cooper.

People are angry, confused. No one really understood what was going on in the last Games until peacekeepers arrived and they knew it was something bad. The peacekeepers are being harder than they have to be. If someone misses one tiny thing, there's a 50 lashes. For the first few weeks people just took it, thought if they were quiet and sufficient enough, the new peacekeepers would settle down. They didn't.

Now, there's no difference in punishments for the kids or the adults. Anyone making a mistake, even children on their first day, get whipped. Several haven't returned to the factory. If it goes on at this rate, Halina will have to come back to work. Something mothers in the past thirty years haven't had to do. Fathers work, mothers take care of their children. They get paid monthly and it's only enough to shop for one week. Houses burn down with no reason whatsoever.

People want to fight, but it's hard to organize something. In one small village with only one factory, nothing much is going to happen. The factory will close down, the villagers who are suspected to have started the riots and uprisings will be executed in front of everyone. They've heard as much from people who fled their old villages and came looking for jobs and shelter here. It's not much, but Tom being able to hear their thoughts, to and to take that into the factory with him, is a start.

They all thank Halina and Tom profusely for their hospitality and Halina thanks Blaine over and over again for the food he gave her. It doesn't matter if it's mostly sweets, she can use anything at the moment. Cooper promises he'll send them whatever he can, but Blaine has the faintest feeling nothing they'll send will actually arrive at Tom and Halina's home. Peacekeepers are in charge of checking packages. They'll eat it all before the packages will be delivered.

Cooper, who out of boredom once took driving lessons, drives them back to the Mayors house. They thank the Mayor for lending his car out to them and meet their father and Quinn on the main square to walk back home. It all seems very coincidental, but Blaine knows they've been here since early afternoon awaiting their return. The walk back home is the only place they assume their conversations aren't overheard.

“We thought you wouldn't be home in time,” Quinn says after they've informed her and their father on everything going on, “peacekeeper Sylvester just announced the curfew.”

“Curfew?” Blaine asks, “as in, we have to be inside at a certain hour?”

“Eight o'clock, everyone has to be in their own homes.”

“Their own homes?”

“Yes.”

Two of the three occupied houses in Victor Village haven't really been occupied since they returned from the 74th Hunger Games. Blaine's house had never been used much, apart from the music room and occasionally the living room or kitchen when Blaine had friends over. He realizes now that he hasn't even had anyone over in the six months since the latest Games were over. He's been too busy trying to find ways to tell Kurt what is happening, too busy thinking of what more he can do in the rebellion. What he, as a victor, can do. He's a face in the media, being only the second to last to win (third, counting both tributes from this year), he can maybe rile people up. If only he had a chance.

The house has been empty, Quinn or his voice never filling the music room with their one song anymore. He is only now reminded, too, that he hasn't heard Quinn sing that song since he himself had gone into the Arena. He remembers how she used to sing it to him when he was just a seven year old boy, who just moved from a tiny village to Victor Village. Leaving all his friends behind, getting his own bedroom when he used to share with Cooper. She used to crawl in with him and sing. He remembers how soothing her presence and her voice had always been, even right up until he went into the Arena. She hasn't sung that song anymore, not to him, but she has let him into her bed on the worst nights and now she can't anymore.

He'll have to go to that big and empty house, where he's never slept before and she'll have to go to her big and empty house that's been unused for at least six months. Coming home, with the rebellion fresh about to start, Quinn and Cooper had felt no need to pretend anymore. Quinn had moved her clothes from her bedroom to Cooper's and they'd lived in Coopers house ever since. The five of them, all together in one house like a proper family. 

That night they still have dinner together, but just before the grandfather clock hits eight, through the front window Blaine sees three peacekeepers arrive. He doesn't recognize their faces, wonders if they're new here. One thing he does know while he watches them circle around the grass field that centers the square of Victor Village; if he doesn't get back to his own house within the next two minutes he'll be punished.

So he gets up, beckons for Quinn to do the same and kisses his family goodnight. His mother looks sad as he leaves her, she clutches his hand for a little longer than necessary and as soon as she lets go, pulls her other son close to her. It pains Blaine to leave her, so determined to fight and yet so fragile and broken when it comes to her children. 

“You're my son,” she says, “you should be allowed to live in the same house as your parents.”

“I'm of age,” Blaine replies, “I'll be fine.”

Except he isn't, he won't be. Without Kurt in his bed beside him, he's been relying on his mother's sleep well kisses to get him through the night. The crowded house had been a blessing to Blaine's nights. His mother's presence always soothing, knowing she's just a door away. Knowing that if he wakes screaming and thrashing from nightmares, Quinn or Cooper are just a floor away, ready to let him into their bed.

Quinn grabs Blaine's hand as they walk out the door and down the front lawn's path. She holds it tight, and Blaine realizes she might be even more scared than he is to sleep alone. She hasn't since she and Cooper had realized how much better it is to share a bed with someone who understands. She hasn't slept alone in about ten years. They reach the end of the path and Blaine looks at her with empathy. He cups her face with his free hand and tells her he's sorry.

“It's not your fault,” she whispers, “we knew it would get worse before it gets better.”

“Fifty seconds before eight o'clock,” a heavy voice to Blaine's right announces. He looks up, the peacekeeper grabs Quinn's hand and pulls her away from Blaine. She's yanked to the side forcefully, let's go of Blaine's hand and almost falls over when the peacekeeper lets go. He stands close to her and points towards her house, on the left side of Cooper's. Blaine has to walk the other way, his house being situated right of Cooper's.

“I'm not even allowed to say goodbye now?” Quinn sounds angry, accusing as she says it. She throws Blaine an apologetic look as the peacekeeper grabs her arm and starts steering her towards the house.

“Let go of me,” she hisses and shakes the hand of her arm. Her face has changed, it's almost as if she isn't beautiful anymore. If one thing has taken away from it, it's the angelic vibe that always seems to shine from her. 

“Twenty seconds,” the peacekeeper hisses back at her and with one last look at Blaine, she starts jogging towards her front door. Blaine does the same, and just as he gets inside hears the clock chime eight. He doesn't even get the chance to take off his coat before the phone rings.

“Are you watching?”

Kurt doesn't even let Blaine say hello before he starts talking. He has to think for a moment what Kurt is talking about, but as soon as he flicks on the television in the study he's reminded. Today is the kick-off of the victory tour for Katniss and Peeta. They're showing Katniss's talent right now, she's designing dresses.

“Designing?” Blaine asks, a bit confused but intrigued. He can understand why Kurt, being a designer himself, is so enthusiastic about it. 

“She was inspired by Cinna,” Kurt says, “he's been helping her out.”

The tone of Kurt's voice, it immediately tells Blaine something else is going on. This is one of the cryptic ways Kurt tries to describe something to him. New information about the rebellion, things he needs to remember and tell Quinn, his father and Cooper tomorrow.

“Cinna?” He asks.

“Yes, Cinna has been helping Katniss with her designs. She was inspired when he lit her on fire. She has no idea how lucky she is with Cinna's help.”

“How has Cinna been at the atelier?” Blaine asks, trying to figure out if this has to do with Cinna or with whatever it is Katniss is doing.

“We've become quite good friends,” Kurt answers, “I introduced him to my father a few nights ago.”

Cinna knows about the rebellion. As soon as Burt is mentioned, it means they're in. It's not some code language Blaine and Kurt had agreed on beforehand, but it's something they've been able to work out in the six months since the last Games. From just the few things Kurt has said now, Blaine knows Cinna is in on everything that's going on. He's making sure Katniss's status as rebel against the Capitol survives and he hasn't told her yet. She needs to be compliant for now, until they've figured out a real plan. Blaine isn't in on that, he'll just do whatever it is he needs to do when Plutarch or Burt tell him so.

“I met the new head Gamemaker at that dinner as well,” Kurt continues, “he's a close friend of my father's.”

Plutarch Heavensbee. Plutarch is the new head gamemaker. Blaine is not sure what this means for the games, how a rebel controlling them will help the revolution, but he fails to see the connection for now. He'll have to discuss that during his walk to town tomorrow.

“Any other gossip to fill me in on?” he asks, but that's about everything Kurt has got so far. They chat for a while longer, stay on the line for as long as the broadcast airs and Blaine hears Kurt sigh irritated when Katniss kisses Peeta. He knows exactly what Kurt feels, or at least he thinks he does. It's unfair, how they're not in love and have to force it. How he and Kurt are desperately in love and cannot do a thing about it. Blaine hangs up at ten o'clock, goes up to the bed he's never before slept in and crawls in.

At eleven, he awaits his mother's goodnight kiss but none arrives. He needs the feel of her hand on his cheek, wants her other hand hovering just above his mouth. He needs her to check if he's still breathing, because the way it feels right now might as well mean he isn't. The air is thick, he chokes on nothing in particular in the empty house. He needs someone around, to keep him safe and warm and having no one within reach makes sleep impossible. 

The next day Blaine takes Quinn and Cooper out for a walk around Center Village, tells them about what Kurt told him and takes up their responses to form for himself whether or not he thinks it's a good thing. Apparently, he does. With the Quarter Quell about to arrive, Plutarch Heavensbee as a gamemaker will make sure it isn't nearly as bad for the tributes as President Snow would like it to be. He'll be able to tip off fellow rebels about the Arena, and it won't be suspicious if he spends a lot of time with any of the mentors who are included in the rebellion. It's wonderful news, and it makes Quinn have a skip in her step that seems only slightly forced. 

They seem even more excited about Cinna's inclusion, since he's on 'team Katniss' as Cooper calls it. The more people supporting Katniss and her being the face of the revolution, the better the chances are she actually manages to be of some significance. Blaine looks at Quinn more than he looks at Cooper, sees her smiles are genuine but short and wonders how long it will take for her to break without Cooper in her bed at night.

He calls Kurt first that evening, getting to his house ten minutes before the clock strikes eight. He hasn't had a chance yet to tell Kurt about the curfew, wonders how Kurt knew to ring his own house rather than Cooper's, but he doesn't know how to bring it up without alerting anyone maybe listening in that he and Kurt discuss politics. So instead he decides to have a normal conversation for the night, one he might have with a friend. That's what they want the Capitol to believe after all, that they're mere friends.

He sits in the television room, phone to his ear and switches on the television. It feels weird, watching something obligatory on his own television and alone. Usually the square in Center Village is filled with people who can't afford a television, people who want to meet up joining them there. Blaine wonders how they do it now, with the curfew set in place they must have issued televisions for those who had nothing at their homes already. It's still half an hour before the victory tour will air, starting in District 11 this year, so in the meantime he chats with Kurt.

“How was your day?” he asks as soon as Kurt answers the phone, reveling in being able to ask something so simple and domestic. It's almost as if Kurt's had a long day of work and just came home to Blaine, the way his mother asks his father how his day was. Kurt waits a bit to answer, probably surprised to hear from Blaine two days in a row and maybe because Blaine asks him about his day so bluntly, but eventually he answers, “fairly uneventful. Yours?”

“I walked to town with Cooper and Quinn, we bought some small stuff from the open shops.”

“They weren't all open?”

“No, I think a few of them are on holiday actually, I haven't seen them for a while.”

Okay, so maybe things aren't as domestic and simple as they seemed. Even just telling Kurt about his day, it turns into telling him about the missing shopkeepers. He hears Kurt say at the other end of the line, shuffling some and then his voice is much softer.

“Things are actually going really well in the Capitol,” Kurt then says, “we've got a flood of new avoxes.”

Avoxes, people from throughout the Districts who committed crimes and get their tongues cut off. They can never speak again, punished from something they did or didn't do, it doesn't matter. One more dreadful way for the Capitol to show who is in charge. Except they aren't anymore, sending peacekeepers to the Districts and pissing them off more than ever before. Kurt telling Blaine there's been a flood of new avoxes, in a way defying the Capitol by explaining to Blaine he's noticed the differences. He's noticed more people are being punished than before and that, those in the Capitol who aren't too thick to see the bigger picture, will realize soon what's happening.

Blaine's suddenly washed over with a rush of affection towards Kurt. A boy who, before Blaine got to know him, seemed like a strange concept of thick and simple mindedness. Before Blaine got the the Capitol, before he ever met Kurt he thought everyone in the Capitol was the way he's always seen them. None of them aware of the District's issues, none of them interested. He'd always thought he was a pawn in their game to everyone. He never was that to Kurt. The boy who now helps in standing up against the place he's always loved. He wish he could tell Kurt, he wishes he could explain to Kurt how much he appreciates him and everything he's doing.

“I'm looking forward to the Quarter Quell,” he says instead. Kurt knows fully well he isn't. It's the only way he can think of to tell Kurt he wants to see him again, that Kurt's still on his mind every single day and even though the revolution they're trying to start is occupying most of either of their lives right now, they still value each other and are the greatest and most important part. It is, after all, their love that made each of them realize how unfair the laws of the Capitol are. 

“Me too,” Kurt says, “I keep counting the seconds on the clock just waiting for the new Games to arrive. Designing for the Quarter Quell tributes must be amazing.”

“It really must be,” Blaine says and smiles. Knowing from the thickness in Kurt's voice that he's choking up just as much thinking about seeing each other again as Blaine is. Blaine wants to add more, but falls silent when the image on the screen changes from a simple news station to Caesar Flickermann announcing the victory tour is about to kick off. His hair and eyebrows, just like his suit, are a light blue that Kurt says he doesn't think is his best color. Blaine giggles, curls his feet beneath himself and folds comfortably on the couch. He watches Caesar's interview with President Snow with Kurt's commentary in his ear. Something so simple and soothing, he wishes he had Kurt right next to him on the couch to curl up to instead. He'd listen to Kurt judge either of their looks and outfits any day. 

Soon enough Caesar wraps up the interview and images of the main square of District 11 are shown. Blaine remembers from his own tour that this square could not possibly hold even a fifth of the District's population. It was the first time he really realized a lot of reapings must be pre-coordinated. There's no way all Eleven's children are in that square during reaping day. Even now the crowd looks too perfectly balanced between child, grown up, males and females, to be coincidental. People are invited, people are forced to be there. Yet another Capitol obligation, don't show up and you're dead. Or your tongue gets cut off, you get thrown in prison just because you stayed at home.

The crowd stays completely silent when Peeta and Katniss follow Effie Trinkett out on stage. Kurt, too, gets quiet after he compliments Cinna and Peeta's stylist on the matching but not similar costumes. Katniss looks tortured, Peeta a little less so. When they show the little girl's family with her face shining bright and bubbly over them Blaine's breath catches. Of course Katniss is tortured in District 11, the same way he was in District 12. She had an alliance with little Rue the same way Blaine had had with Pennie. He remembers kicking off his first day in Twelve, wanting nothing more than to pass through the crowd and climb up on the stage. Hugging Pennie's mother, telling her father how sorry he was. Katniss must feel the same, if not worse with the way she did everything within her power to make Rue's death something to hold the Capitol accountable for. To make it a human one, rather than a piece of the Games.

Katniss doesn't say anything, lets Peeta do all the talking and it worries Blaine for a moment. What if the rebels think she isn't what they made her out to be? She is supposed to be the face of the revolution, she's supposed to be everything they need and then she stands there numb, holding Peeta's hand and staring straight ahead. Of course, Blaine knows the feeling very well and he, like no other, undestands giving the task of offering condolences to someone else. If he'd had the chance, he'd done the same. The entire thing becomes extraordinary, though, when Peeta offers the families tributes each a month of their winnings for the duration of their lives. Blaine had tried it in his own District, offering Tish's family the house he wouldn't be using and offering them money but Quinn had been extremely clear. It was forbidden. Dear God, what would the Capitol do to Peeta, who is now offering it to people from outside his own District? They aren't supposed to be allies, aren't supposed to work together like this. Whatever it is, Peeta just made a rebel of himself next to Katniss. 

“Well, that was anti-climatic,” Kurt says after the two victors turn to walk back into Eleven's Justice Building, “everyone in the Capitol loves Katniss and then Peeta does all the talking.”

Blaine is about to respond and tell Kurt, when Katniss turns back around and starts talking. She addresses the boy tribute's family first, tells them how she didn't know him and regrets not being able to get to. That she owes him her life and can never repay his family. She then addresses Rue's family with a heartfelt speech that makes Blaine's throat tighten up, he fights back tears but is unable to. He hears Kurt on the other end of the line, sighing and awe'ing in a completely different tone than how Blaine feels. He's amazed by her words, touched but not struck. Blaine feels her with everything in his body, feels the meaning coursing through his veins. It's a warm thing, something completely out of the blue and it rushes through him like wildfire. Something is happening with her words, something larger is about to start and for a reason Blaine doesn't understand, he knows Cooper and Quinn are feeling it too.

He's not even in the same house as them, they're divided over three houses but they're all feeling it and Blaine just knows. A grim silence falls over the crowd when she finishes, and it's almost as if everything happens in slow motion when a man whistles a vaguely familiar tune.

“Rue's tune. The mockingjay.”

Blaine remembers then, when Kurt says it, how Katniss and Rue had agreed on a signal in which they used the mockingjays, who can repeat a human tune immediately after they hear it. Katniss token had been a mockingjay, she later had used the mockingjays in her alliance and now they're coming back to her again. The girl on fire, assisted by a mockingjay. 

It's not all that happens, though, throughout the crowd people put three fingers up in the air. The Twelve sign for respect, support and love. It's too perfectly in tune for it to be a coincidental thing. This has been rehearsed and as soon as the screen turns black, Blaine knows something terrible will happen to whoever started this. He doesn't know how or why, he can't even justify it fully in his head but it occupies every single corner of his mind.

“That was illegal,” is the first thing he says to break the palpable silence between him and Kurt, “victors aren't allowed to give fallen tributes' families money.”

“That sign, the fingers... -”

“It's from District 12.”

“That was Eleven.”

“Change is coming,” Blaine says, “things are about to get really bad between the Capitol and the Districts.”

“Are you safe?” Kurt asks, “District 9, how is it in District 9?”

Everything shifts at that moment, it doesn't matter anymore. Not even the thickest person will be able deny that what is happening now, with Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, isn't significant in some way. Isn't the start of something new.

“Mostly quiet,” he answers honestly, “peacekeepers have been stricter than before but there aren't any open fights against the Capitol.”

“I love you.”

“Kurt... -”

“No, Blaine, I love you. I don't care who knows and I don't care what they'll do to me if they know. It's time to stop hiding and start fighting. I want to be with you, I'll even move to Nine and leave all this luxury behind if it means I get to share a bed with you every night. I want to be with you and hold you through the night, kiss away your tears and tell you I'll always be there. I hate that I can't tell you now because I'm not always there. I need to fight to be there. If this phone is being tapped, if they're listening in on us I don't give a damn. I think they're too busy trying to figure out what's happening in Eleven, though, so I think for tonight we're safe. Can we please be safe for tonight?”

“Okay,” Blaine relents, “just tonight.”

“Really?” Kurt asks in disbelief, “we've got tonight?”

“We've got tonight!” Blaine laughs, carefree at Kurt's tone. So happy, so surprised and happy. He needs this, too, just as much as Kurt if not more. He talks to Kurt the entire night, not about any of the revolution parts they keep hiding from the Capitol, not talking about plans or other things but confessing love over and over again.

They talk about how Blaine wishes he could map Kurt's body with his tongue, how he had been so relieved and yet surprised when Kurt's entire body had been as pale and perfect as his face. That he wants to trace his finger over Kurt's tattoo and kiss over it. Kurt tells him he wants to hold Blaine's hand in the street and kiss his cheek when his father isn't looking, that he wants to sneak Blaine up to his room during dinners and hold him close the entire night. He confesses how he can't sleep at night because he dreams Blaine's going back into the Arena. Knows it can never happen, that victors are excused from ever entering their name in a reaping again, but he still dreams it. He says he, too, only sleeps fully well when Blaine's in the bed with him. How he woke up three or four times a night during the past Games, just to check Blaine was still breathing beside him and how he needs to be able to do that every night for the rest of his life.

Of course, it's all a fairy tale and there's no way this will happen for a long time, knows that first and foremost they need to clear the way for future generations but in the cocoon of just this night, hearing Kurt's breath evening out through the device he holds to his ear, it's the best night sleep he's had in a long time. 

The next day he grabs his mattress from his bed and drags it to the television room, the room that also holds the phone. He calls Kurt that night again and though they aren't in their safe night anymore, something has shifted between them as much as everything in the Districts has shifted. The victory tour is an obligatory broadcast and so everyone has seen it, everyone has seen how Peeta offered the money to the other victors, showing the way Katniss had with decorating Rue's body in the Arena, that they won't forget about the fallen people. That they want to give their lives meaning, make their losses count. 

Blaine feels, when he walks to town with his father that day, the peacekeepers have grown more distant than before, and when he walks over to Tish's father's sweetshop he is shocked to see it emptied out and robbed. Her father's cleaning up and humming a familiar song, the song Katniss had sang to Rue. Immediately Blaine knows this robbing is the Capitol's work. 

When the victory tour arrives in District 9 on the third day, Blaine is surprised to find they're not invited to the mayor's house for dinner. Every other year District's victors join. It's where Blaine met Haymitch, Finnick and Johanna for the first time after all. This year they don't want the two victors to meet any of the other victors, in case they're rebelling. So the Capitol knows there are rebelling victors. Blaine wonders if they know he's in them. He also wonders how the Capitol officially states the reason none of the victors are invited to their District's dinners this year.

“With two victors,” Shannon Beiste tells him, “it would become two crowded they say. Because there's an extra victor now, they're traveling with three people from District 12.”

“Of course,” Blaine agrees with her and smirks. It's the biggest nonsense he's ever heard. He, Quinn and Cooper were with three from one District as well and they still got to meet every other victor in the Districts.

Blaine watches the speeches in Nine from the square, the only night he doesn't speak to Kurt live. His face is shown on a screens a few times, but mostly they zoom in on Katniss and Peeta and then on Jane's and Lumox's families. It's a painful reminder of how Blaine lost his first two tributes not even ten minutes into the Games.

The only good thing that comes out of the night is seeing Halina and Tom again. Tom offers Blaine a box as a thank you for the money they gave him. When Blaine opens it at home, he finds crackers inside scripted with Katniss's mockingjay. A tiny letter comes with it. Because everyone at the factory loves a Mockingjay. He says he's been sending them to his family throughout the Districts, though there's no such thing as having families in other Districts, Blaine knows people within the factories have spies in places as well. The people have found ways to communicate with each other, via bread and crackers. Via Mockingjays painted on walls that you can see from one District's border to another, the mockingjay becomes a signal to show your support to the cause. 

People in the Districts chant Katniss's name as she enters. They never do that, they always applaud but never chant. Never are they happy, because this tribute taking their stage always means they lost two of their own. After the disaster that struck in Eleven, Katniss and Peeta keep to the cards that Effie Trinket writes them. Blaine knows it's Effie, remembers how Isabelle used to write them for him.

Blaine calls Kurt from the mattress in his television room every night. They watch the victory tour together, talk for a little while longer and fall asleep with each other still on the phone. Blaine starts spending more time in his music room again, now he speaks to Kurt every night, and Quinn joins him almost every day. They spend time with their family during the day, head to Blaine's house to make music after dinner and just before eight Blaine will walk Quinn to her house. She keeps insisting it isn't necessary, but the peacekeepers surveying victor's Village seem to have their eyes set on Quinn in a way that none of them like. Especially the one who had grabbed her the first night. Blaine doesn't let her out on her own just before curfew, no idea what the men would do to her if she'd even be a second late to her own house. 

Blaine knows she and Cooper call each other, too, every night. It feels so dumb, unnecessary when they're only a house away from each other but they can't not speak to each other before sleep. Blaine gets it, needs it with Kurt now he restarted it again. Though, where Blaine is sleeping better than before due to falling asleep to the sound of Kurt's breath, Quinn's eyes become sunken with dark circles under them quickly. Cooper, too, gets quieter and Blaine wishes he could just put them together.

While they sing, Quinn still doesn't sing the one song she always used to and though Blaine would love to hear it he doesn't ask her. He understands, he thinks, how that song was from before. The same way Kurt hasn't sung since his mother died, Quinn won't sing that song now Blaine isn't as pure as he used to be anymore. The song, after all, was about someone pure and simple, innocent and lucky. No one escaping the Arena, not even Peeta Mellark who was merely saved by love, will ever be that way again. The song isn't right, it used to be something Quinn sang for him when he was the only innocent thing she loved. All of that is gone now.

The victory tour ends with a proposal from Peeta, something that makes Kurt tear up even though he knows their love isn't real. Kurt, and the rest of the Capitol, are simultaneously the only people tearing up over the announcement of the oncoming marriage. In District 9 it seems to be the last flame that was needed to start an uprising, and when Blaine talks to Beiste again he hears there are more Districts who didn't take the proposal as a very positive message. They understand that Katniss, instead of keeping on defying the Capitol, is giving in to what Snow wants from her and they're not happy with it.

In District 9 it mostly means that the people from the Villages track towards Center Village in a large group, and start destroying anything Capitol made in there. They stop showing up at the factories, break windows and make sure machines are unusable before they leave. Peacekeepers fight back when the Justice Building is attacked and they lose about fifty people in the battle. It's a short battle, where a bomb falls down on the outer square outside the building and it's just the people at the back who fall, but with no hospital around all of the injured lose their lives. With Katniss's turn towards the Capitol, her betraying the Districts as the people seem think, they turn against other victor's as well.

After the Justice Building attack several people from District 3 arrive, needing to fix the parts where the Capitol's bomb had ruined the train tracks. The station is rebuilt, though in a more sober way, in no time. In the square people won't let Blaine into the shops anymore, thinking he's just as much of a Capitol lapdog as Katniss is. For now he knows he has to keep it that way. It hurts, the stares he gets when he hates the Capitol just as much as they do but without a plan he needs to stay on Snow's good side. If they ever need an insider, showing he, Quinn or Cooper are rebels now will not come in handy. So he deals with the stares and the whisper, deals with the constant fear of his house being attacked. The people seem to spend nights destroying Capitol builds and the only thing left untouched eventually is Victor Village.

Blaine, Quinn and Cooper have been out of the loop of news in the District now people have taken such a dislike to victors. It's been a few months since the curfew was set, a few months since the victory tour ended and with their access to shops being minimized, they go into town, buy what they need and are thrown out of the shops almost before they can pay for their gatherings. It's been frustrating, not being able to update Kurt on their nightly telephone conversations and it's been hell to be cut off from human contact so much. They haven't even been able to talk to Beiste about what's happening in other Districts the way they used to. 

So when one morning there's an obligatory broadcast announced, Cooper takes Blaine and Quinn by the hand and forces them to the main square. Having learned from the victory tour that it was impossible to get everyone to watch obligated broadcasts back home, the curfew is pushed a few hours for tonight and on the square in front of the savaged Justice Building several screens are being put up. It's still early when they arrive, wanting a good spot where they can overview the crowd and be surrounded by it as well. They feel the need to soak up the crowd's energy, feel their mood and meanwhile try to hear the gossip of what's happening around.

What they don't expect is to be torn apart by three peacekeepers when they try to talk to one of the people putting up the screen. These are usually people sent in from the technical District, Three, and now would be the perfect opportunity to figure out what's going on there. Apparently it's not allowed.

They take away Quinn's bags and open them, one bag holds her purse with enough money in it to buy up every shop in the square and the other holds a large Mockingjay engraved bread Beiste brought the day before, that Quinn was planning on sharing around today to make some friends. Blaine's bag is searched next, while Quinn is being cuffed against the pole that stands large on the middle of the square. There is a pole like that in every village throughout the District, but in Center Village it hasn't been used since Shannon Beiste had become head peacekeeper. Blaine guesses now with Sylvester as their new one, things have changed.

“She's done nothing wrong!” Cooper yells as he sees another peacekeeper approach with a large lash. For a moment Blaine doesn't know what's about to happen, but then the second peacekeeper raises his whip and slaps it down hard against Quinn's back. She's still clothed, so the sound gets muffled but Blaine can understand it must hurt. Quinn, though, doesn't give an inch. She sits there on her knees, hands tied above her head and facing away from the brothers as the lash slaps down against her back again.

“Don't touch her!”

Cooper's cries are almost more painful for Blaine to hear than it is to watch Quinn being beaten. Quinn sits there obediently, taking the lash for the fifth time and she still doesn't move an inch. Blaine thinks she might be unconscious, but for the next lash she lifts her head and the point of the whip smashes against her cheek. A cut springs open on her dry skin, and Cooper's final resolve breaks as he races over the square towards where the love of his life is being beaten to a pulp.

Blaine runs after his brother immediately, afraid what Cooper's interfering might mean. Cooper cries out when Blaine holds him back, gestures for the people who have gathered around Quinn and he stomps and tramps in Blaine's arms. He yells for the peacekeeper to stop, but all that gets him is another peacekeeper full in his face telling him to shut up.

“I don't even know what she did,” he says to Blaine, then turns to the peacekeeper, “let me do it, let me take her punishment. Whatever she's done, let me pay for it.”

The loud murmuring that was filling up the square falls silent when a tall peacekeeper arrives, holding her helmet under her arm. She's got short blond hair and a strict posture.

“What's going on over here?” she asks in an authoritative voice that tells Blaine immediately she must be new head peacekeeper Sue Sylvester. “I thought I made clear I don't want any onlookers during punishment?”

Cooper thrashes in Blaine's arms again, then addresses Sylvester as she walks over to the center of the square. The peacekeeper that was busy whipping Quinn turns towards his boss and then around the square. He scans the crowd, as if trying to find his next victim, and his eyes fall on where Cooper is trying to break free of Blaine's hold. Blaine doesn't give, holds him with all the strength he can muster and tries to shush Cooper. Tell him it's alright, it will be over soon. That he's only making it worse for Quinn.

“We don't even know what she did!” Cooper yells at the head peacekeeper. Sylvester turns her eyes from Quinn to Cooper and they flash with recognition. 

“She was holding more than one bag, ma'am, and she was traveling in a group larger than two.”

“She was what?” Blaine asks, releasing his hold on Cooper, who immediately sprints towards where Quinn is still tied up and sitting still. He takes her face in his hands and inspects the cut inflicted on it. Quinn looks at Cooper with tear stricken eyes, tries to move towards him in his arms but is held back by her bounds.

“Carrying more than one bag is forbidden, mister Anderson,” Shannon Beiste's voice sounds from behind him, “you're only allowed to walk in groups of two or less and you're not allowed to speak to anyone from outside the District.”

“So I'm not even allowed to talk to you.”

“Peacekeepers are an exception,” Beiste says and squeezes Blaine shoulders when Sylvester isn't looking at them. Then something weird happens, as one of the girls from the crowd steps forward. Blaine recognizes her as someone from his class, but he's forgotten her name.

“Excuse me, miss Sylvester?” she starts, “Miss Fabray has had fifteen whippings, I've counted. I believe that's the max for a first offence.”

“Fabray?” Sylvester asks, “as in Quinn Fabray?”

“Yes,” the girl says, “Quinn Fabray from Victor Village.”

Sylvester turns towards the peacekeeper holding the lash, shoves him harshly and then makes it her own task to unbind the rope around Quinn's wrists. Quinn sags in Coopers embrace as soon as she's out, and in that moment no one on the square seems to question why he holds her so close and keeps kissing her hair. He whispers to her, Blaine can't make out what, but she starts sobbing and practically crawls inside him. He sits on his knees with her as close to his body as is humanly possible. 

“Mister Anderson,” Sylvester says to Cooper in a much gentler tone than she used before, “can you please take your friend away from here? She's gathering a crowd and I can't possibly whip them all for being in a group larger than two.”

Her words seem to rile the people around, and soon everyone starts back into their respective shops and houses. Sylvester announces one more time that the new rules will be on hiatus from 7 o'clock to 9 o'clock tonight, where the Capitol broadcast will be mandatory to watch. A few people hear her tell the peacekeepers to never punish victors anymore, and Blaine knows they're not going to be happy with that. Though he feels somewhat of a relief he won't have to go through this ever again, watch someone he loves be tortured the way Quinn was, he knows it won't help their reputation with the people of District 9. If anything, it makes them look like the Capitol's lapdog now more than ever. 

Blaine thanks the girl for her interference, she tells Blaine anytime. Says she knows they're not popular in the District, but that she wishes no one the amount of pain Quinn had to be in. Blaine can't tell the girl enough how much he appreciates it, but she promises him it's nothing. He shakes her hand again, with a few coins in it and she kisses his cheek. He finds the coins back inside his pocket later. 

Blaine, Quinn and Cooper make sure they're not together with the three of them at one time, because though they've been granted immunity from punishment by Sue Sylvester, they don't want to rub it in anyone's faces. So Blaine sits alone for most of the day, watches people passing by and arriving from outer villages to be able to watch tonight's broadcast on center square. Just before seven buses start to arrive, bringing people in from the factories that are still open. They're down for the night, the broadcast apparently more important than grain production. There's gossip of what it might be about, some people assume it's the Everdeen-Mellark wedding and others are talking about the Quarter Quell announcement. 

Every twenty-five years a special Games, the last one won by Haymitch. Every twenty-five years an extra obstacle and what could be it now? Once each Districts had to vote their own tributes, which was maybe even crueler than the time they had to send in double the victors they normally would. Blaine gets up to find Quinn and Cooper when the clock strikes seven and he finds them with Halina and Tom at their side. Blaine goes to ask where they left the baby, but Cooper shakes his head. 

Blaine sees a few smaller children running around the square ahead of him and gets hit in the chest with a sudden realization. They could be going into the Arena next. With the Quarter Quell around the corner, one of the few things he could think could make the Games even worse are sending younger children in. What if they change the age from twelve to eighteen? What if they're sending in these children, what if more parents lose their baby to the Capitol the way their hunger forced Halina and Tom to lose theirs. 

But Blaine couldn't have been more wrong. After they watch a montage of Katniss Everdeen trying on wedding dresses, after Cinna and Caesar talk about them and Caesar urges the audience to vote for them, the crowd is annoyed. They can't even vote, they don't give a single damn about any wedding in the Capitol and they've been forced out here onto a crowded square to watch their supposed Mockingjay trying on wedding dresses. Blaine is pretty sure the crowd is about to start a riot when Caesar tells everyone to stay tuned for the exciting news about to air. President Snow himself will announce this year's Quarter Quell.

The anthem sounds and seems to rile the crowd back into their calm state, because though everyone is angry with the Capitol, this is still something that they need to know. President Snow takes his place after the anthem ends and then he is telling everyone across the nation about the first and second Quarter Quell. He tells them about the Dark Days and how rebellion should be punished by death. That the Hunger Games are a reminder of this punishment and that no one should ever try to rebel because it only makes people dead. The words seem to hit home to a lot of people, who start hollering at the screen, though they are quickly shushed by roaming peacekeepers.

Eventually Snow takes a small card from a box that has a large 75 engraved on it. He reads the card carefully and then announces its content.

“On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”

The crowd around the three victors of District 9 grows silent with a start, people retreat and turn around to get a good look at them. The existing pool of victors, there are only three in District 9. Quinn Fabray and the two Anderson boys. In the far back Blaine hears a familiar cry, one he heard right before he got hauled of onto a train to the Capitol for the very first time.

It's his mother, and it's the agony in her voice that makes Blaine realize. She's about to send one of her boys off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update 9th January 2015. Hope you all enjoy, let me know your thoughts and find me on beatlebun.tumblr.com :-).


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry for the delay. Real life has been crazy, and will become even more crazy. I'm not sure if I can keep up the schedule, but I'll do everything I can. It's finished work so it's really just editing that needs to happen, it won't be delayed more than a couple days if more delays happen. But as said, I'll do everything I can to keep to schedule.

There's a burden in Blaine's heart that's heavier than any of the burdens he's bared before. His mind fights a constant battle between figuring out if he wants to survive or if he wants to save his loved ones. One certainty at this point is that Quinn is going back into the Arena, the other certainty is the male tribute's last name will be Anderson. Blaine spends his time figuring out what to do when Cooper's name would be reaped, the other half of the time thinking of what to do when his own name is reaped. He knows Cooper would never forgive him if he volunteered for him, the same way he would never forgive Cooper if things were the other way around.

Still, the burden that Blaine bares doesn't have much to do with the announcement of this year's Quarter Quell. Or maybe it does. The evening it was announced, on the day of Quinn's whipping, hell had broke lose on the square right after. 

Cooper and Blaine's mom had screamed, sobbed and cried about how unfair it was, and the people had turned around like leaves. They had hated victors before that moment, thought they were Capitol lovers and Snow's lapdogs. When Snow had announced they were about to kill another 23 of them in the Arena, people understood. It hadn't taken a single second and Quinn didn't even need to hand out the Mockingjay bread for the rebels to understand, we're on your side. 

The crowd had riled, the riot Blaine had felt starting before the announcement edged on by his mother's sobs. Tom had been the first one to start the attack, shoving through the sea of people and throwing rocks at the big screen which had broadcast the announcement. Without hesitation one of the peacekeepers surrounding the square had shot him through the head. There was nothing Blaine could have done, but he still feels like it should have been him to come forward, instead of Tom. After all, it was his or Cooper's death that had just been announced. 

Halina had screamed next to Blaine, and Quinn had grabbed her, stopped her from moving forward to drop down at her husband's body. If she had, Blaine is sure she'd been shot just as easily as they had shot Tom. Still, now he thinks maybe they should have. Cooper had taken Halina in the house since. Formally as a housekeeper but mostly to keep her from falling apart now she's lost the three most important things in her life. He hasn't seen her since that night, she's locked away in one of Cooper's extra rooms the same way Blaine has locked himself in.

Blaine doesn't like the rebellion anymore, not at all. He doesn't like that Cooper came in begging for Blaine to let Cooper in the Arena with Quinn, hates how he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to look at Quinn, knowing she lives with the guarantee of reliving all the horrors again. His nightmares are back, in which mostly all three of them are in the Arena, fighting others and fighting each other. Every time he wakes up screaming.

He has redone his house, lives out of one room now and doesn't leave it. He hasn't been outside since two days after the Quarter Quell was announced. He'd been on his way to his parents' house after a sleepless night and saw Quinn and Cooper walking hand in hand around the grass field in the middle of Victor Village's square. She looked tired, too tired to even stand up straight. Cooper was holding her up with one arm around her waist, his free hand firmly clutching hers. Her eyes where red brimmed and her spirit broken.

It had broken Blaine, too, he'd run back inside his house, dragged his mattress from the television room to the music room and has lived from there since. He eats the meals his mom brings him, but barely, and he plays the piano until he is too tired to even press the keys down. He hears the phone ring in the other room, about five times a day, and ignores it. He plays the piano louder, louder, even louder and then softer when his fingers get tired. He plays until he falls off the stool and only then he drags himself to the mattress to offer his body some rest. He ignores his mother's questions when she comes in, wishes there was a way he could change the locks on the door, but he doesn't have the energy or will power to even figure out how.

As time passes, he gets tired quicker and plays less piano. The more he sleeps, the groggier he becomes and the groggier he becomes, the more he sleeps. He avoids Quinn and Cooper at all costs, can't bare the see them and doesn't want to have the inevitable talk about what their strategies are going to be.

He takes baths only when he starts to smell himself, drinks when his mother sets tea in the room. She's indulgent for a long time, brings him three meals a day to try and keep him on a normal and healthy day to day schedule, but his sleep pattern is so messed up and he hardly eats three bites of each meal, so his rhythm is utterly out of sync anyway. 

For about a week she sends his father with the meals, but he's even more distant than he was after the first reaping. Blaine assumes it's guilt he feels, still, because he was the one who had been in a rebelling movement and thus made his sons victims for the Arena. Blaine doesn't even try to tell him he shouldn't blame himself, that it's the Capitol who's at fault here, because he just doesn't know anymore. Sometimes he thinks it might be better if he'd just end it all right now, but then he's reminded that means Cooper will definitely enter the Arena and that's the only thing that keeps him going.

As far as going goes, the week his father brings over the food he barely eats anything at all. He doesn't bathe and finds himself on his mattress more than he sits at the piano creating useless music. His father doesn't force him to eat, doesn't talk to him the way his mother does and so when that week is over and his mother comes back into the house, it's almost a blessing.

“Get up,” she says and yanks his blanket off him the way she used to when he was sixteen and didn't feel like going to school. When he was a normal boy, whose brother was a Hunger Games victor. When he had no idea of the horrors his brother was living with, when he himself was worry free and perfectly content with his life. He curses the Capitol, the Games, for taking it away from him.

His mother throws the blankets across the room and pulls on Blaine's arm to get him in an upright position. He goes fighting, but his body is so weak she wins easily. She moves behind him, spreads her legs to pulls him towards her and then envelops him in a hug. She'd tried it before, touching him, when he'd just moved into the music room, but he hadn't let her. He lets her now, doesn't think he has the energy or strength to fight her anymore. 

She holds him for a long while, rocking him and kissing his hair, whispering sweet nothings. He doesn't feel twenty years old when he's in her arms, he feels like that tiny six year old who had no idea why his brother was hauled off onto a train. He knows now, he knows that train better than he ever wished he did. He closes his eyes and leans back against his mother's chest, smelling her warmness and reveling in her care. She holds him for a long time, and a little longer, until the phone rings and she gets up to get it.

“I'm going to answer that phone,” she says, “you will drag yourself upstairs and take a bath, get dressed and then you'll eat.”

“I really don't feel like...-”

“Nuh-uh,” his mother says while waving a finger at him, “it's been four weeks, you've sulked enough. You've got a few more weeks to gather your strength before you might enter that Arena.”

Without another word she walks out, leaves Blaine to her commands and he doesn't know why or how, but he decides to listen to her reason. He drags himself up from the mattress and climbs the stairs. He's out of breath before he reaches the last step and he knows he needs to work on himself in order to have any chance of survival. Or if he wants to protect Quinn until the end. And what if Cooper enters the Arena, what if Blaine becomes the mentor responsible for Cooper or Quinn? 

He fills the bathtub with hot water, too hot maybe, but he lets the water scald his skin and wash off the dirt from four weeks. Has it really been as long as his mother said? It doesn't feel as long, and at the same time it feels like it's been five years since the Quarter Quell was announced. With his day and night routine messed up the way it is, he honestly can't tell what day it is anymore. If his mother is right, if four weeks have passed since the announcement of the Quarter Quell, that means there are only eight weeks until the Games. Seven weeks until either his or Cooper's name will get reaped. Eight weeks until Quinn most definitely has to fight for her life again.

Blaine drops his head under water, wets his hair and is greeted with his mother's kind smile when he comes up for air again. She stands by the bathtub with no shame, puts some clean clothes on the stand next to the bath and tells him to be at their, though officially Cooper's, house in half an hour. He doesn't question her, gets out of the bath and towels himself dry slowly. He puts on the clothes she's picked out and trots downstairs to eat some of the food she has brought over.

His stomach clenches after six bites of the freshly baked bread and so he finishes the tomato soup next to it before he leaves the ringing phone behind him and walks over to Cooper's house. He's met there with Quinn and Cooper curled up on the couch in the living room, he hears his mother rummage in the kitchen and his father is pacing the hallway. He gestures for Blaine to settle on the couch, who goes reluctantly.

He's been ignoring his brother and Quinn for four weeks and he doesn't want to face them in this setting, where they're curled up so close and obviously sharing an intimate moment.

Still, he is in Cooper's house now and he can't go on ignoring them forever, so he goes and sits down in his father's arm chair across the couch. Cooper throws him a smile, but it's not the genuine one Blaine is used to and Quinn merely hides in Cooper's arms. Blaine notices she's wearing only sweatpants and a wide sweater. It's very unlike her, she usually makes some kind of effort to look nice. She doesn't go as far as putting on her trademark tiara every time she leaves her house, but he's also never seen her leave in anything other than a skirt or dress. 

When she does look up at Blaine, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. She looks awful, to say the least, dark circles under her eyes and her hair is a mess. It's dirty and Blaine imagines it smells, praises Cooper silently for still holding her so tightly and then wonders if Kurt would hold him just the same. Her eyes are empty, too, red brimmed with tears and sorrow. Her mouth curls up and Blaine thinks she attempts a smile, but if this is how she'll be going to the Capitol she won't have much chance of sponsors. No matter how much the crowd loved her the first time around, this girl right here is not something anyone would fight for, pay money to send in gifts.

“I just had that Kurt guy on the phone,” their mother says as she enters the room, “he said he was going out swimming later today. Made me promise to tell you, it was a bit odd. I didn't even know people in the Capitol could swim.”

“They can't,” Blaine answers, “or at least Kurt can't, he told me so when we were in District 4 with my victory tour.”

“Then why would he..-”, his father starts, but Blaine interrupts him when the realization hits him in the chest. Kurt, all this time, has been trying to call him. Kurt, who is close to Plutarch Heavensbee, The Head Gamemaker of the Quarter Quell. He's trying to warn them.

“We need to learn to swim,” he says forcefully. Kurt, maybe it's because he's out of the house for the first time in four weeks, maybe it's because he's actually bathed and ate something and maybe it's just because this is the first time in weeks he's even heard from Kurt, but the fire in his veins starts coursing at full speed again. It's the same fire he felt when his name first got reaped. It's the fire that has been growing inside him ever since he left the Arena, it's what he felt when Cooper decided to fight for him, when Kurt told him he'd help out. It's a will to fight. He can get out of this Arena alive. He can get either Quinn or Cooper out alive.

He has to choose between his own life and Quinn or Cooper's. He can't do it, he cannot do it. They need to learn how to swim. His mind is a mumble of thoughts, one trying to overshadow the other. He tries to convince himself to save his loved ones and at the same time tries to convince himself he can survive this. He wants either, he wants to survive or for Cooper or Quinn to survive and in order for any of it to happen they need to learn how to swim.

“Not today,” his mother says.

“We need to learn how to swim in seven weeks, we need today.”

“I'm sorry boys,” his father interjects, “no can do today. Miss Sylvester announced yesterday that she wants to visit all of us today. She's coming over in half an hour. I want you all dressed and ready.” He looks at Quinn poignantly, who makes no effort to move. 

Blaine takes another bread roll from his mother, eats it slower than the one before and manages to avoid the stomach cramps with this one. He still feels full after half of it, so instead he picks on it until head peacekeeper Sylvester arrives. His father keeps pacing the hallway until that point, looks more nervous than ever before and their mother and he whisper argue the for the last five minutes until the doorbell rings.

Sylvester walks into the house alone, without her uniform and her face seems serious. She says she's left one of her idiots in charge, and has to be out of here before the hour is over, or they'll kill every uprising rebel and there won't be any population left in District 9. 

“They're still rebelling?” Cooper asks, sitting up a little and Quinn goes with him effortlessly. Her body follows Cooper's every move, as if she's glued to him and maybe she is. 

“They're out of hand!” Sylvester smirks, “you have to be really careful who to punish and how to punish them these days, because shooting at random just doesn't work anymore, we wouldn't have a single person left in the District.”

“Is the Quarter Quell supposed to calm them down?” Blaine asks, to which Sylvester answers negatively. 

“Oh, I think Snow shot himself in the foot with that one,” she says, and even though Blaine knows a lot of rebels by now, something so decidedly against president Snow still sounds strange out of the mouth of their head peacekeeper, a position of someone he always thought had to love the Capitol deeply. 

Sue Sylvester points at Quinn, who crawls deeper into Cooper's side at the gesture, even though it shouldn't physically be possible. 

“You, Quinn Fabray, have always been my favorite.”

Quinn perks up, only a little, and looks Nine's head peacekeeper straight in the eye.

“You were wrong to believe in me,” she whispers, “I was a lucky victor, I'd never survive in this pool of fighters.”

“Nonsense,” Sylvester says, “you just weren't trained properly before.”

“They're not allowed to train.”

“Well, mister Anderson, has anyone ever stopped the other Districts? It's up to peacekeepers to report training tributes to the Capitol and not one of my men and women will, I can assure you that.”

Sue takes one out a cracker engraved with Katniss's mockingjay, takes a demonstrative bite of it, points at Quinn once more and tells her to be at the whipping pole in Center Village the next morning. It's an odd meeting point, perhaps, but it's clear and Blaine just hopes it doesn't mean she'll report them for training after all.

“I'll only come if the boys are allowed to come with,” Quinn says, pressing herself closer to Cooper again as if trying to prove a point. Sue Sylvester sighs, looks at the brothers and then relents.

“Fine,” she says, “I need one of you lot to win anyway.”

She probably means that she herself gets a year round of monthly food supplies, which come with a winning tribute for the District, but to Blaine it doesn't matter anymore. If Quinn and Cooper will go training, then so will he. They'll hardly kill them before the Arena for training, the way they would normally do with non-career Districts, and in the Arena it can only help either him or his brother and Quinn. 

He doesn't care about Sylvester's motivation, about Quinn's or Cooper's. As long as all three of them are in top shape by the time the reaping comes around, he's happy. As happy as can be. And the reaping comes closer and closer with each day passing.

And so the next morning he follows his brother and Quinn to the main square, where they meet Sylvester, and immediately he tells her he wants to learn to swim. Miss Sylvester quickly agrees with him, doesn't ask questions about his motivations and so he doesn't ask questions about hers. They get special permission to visit the lake, just like they have special permission to break pretty much any of the new rules in the District. Blaine is happy to leave the main square, regardless where they're going. The tiles next to the pole are covered in blood and peacekeepers walk around with their whips ready in hand. Most stores look empty, robbed, windows broken and doors forced open. He doesn't like the neglected feel the entire place gives him.

They get to the lake each morning just before nine, and Sue Sylvester makes them work their butts off. Surprisingly, the strict regimen she puts them on actually helps Blaine get back into his own. His day to day sleeping schedule evens out within the first week and he can feel his muscles strengthening by the time the second weeks comes around. Even his head feels clearer than it did, maybe ever before. It's definitely the healthiest he has felt since his return from the Arena. 

At night he still sleeps in the music room in his own house, needing the time to think about things before bed. He plays the piano still, though not obsessively anymore. He thinks about his strategy, what he will do in the Arena and whether he'll save his own life or Quinn's. If there's one thing he is sure of, now he's working together with Quinn and Cooper, is that he'll volunteer if Cooper's name will be called.

It might be selfish, but he knows Quinn agrees with him that Cooper's life is worth more than his. He doesn't even blame her for thinking that way, is grateful she does because he knows for a fact Cooper won't forgive him if he doesn't let him go into the Arena with Quinn. 

Blaine doesn't talk about it to Cooper, figures they'll only fight about it and so he relies on Quinn's information that Cooper plans on volunteering if Blaine's name would be called. 

The energy he strangely requires from Sue Sylvester's strict training schedule, her shouting and uncomfortable kind moments make Blaine's lust to fight grow with every sunrise and he learns more from Sue Sylvester than any trainer in the training center could ever teach him. He knows how to swim within three weeks after they start their training, and four weeks after he can make a fire without matches effortlessly.

The weeks fly by, the phone doesn't ring anymore and at the end of the day Blaine is too exhausted from training to think of picking up his phone to call Kurt and before he gets the chance to, reaping day arrives.

Isabelle comes knocking on the door early morning, she looks tired and worn and her hostility towards Quinn seems to have completely disappeared as she hugs her close. She does the same to Cooper, then to Blaine and pulls away with tears in her eyes. Blaine knows she wasn't Cooper or Quinn's escort all those years ago, but she has been the escort for District 9 for six years now and so she knows them pretty well. Sending them off, knowing one of them is about to die must cause her some form of hurt as well.

Blaine wears the same outfit he wore two years ago, though this time he attaches the bow tie Kurt had given him on the night of his interview. Cooper wears the suit Kurt had designed for him for the final feast on Blaine's victory tour, and Quinn wears a light blue evening gown. Cooper attaches his silver star to his shirt, Quinn puts on a silver tiara with a star in the middle and with Blaine's bow tie covered in silver stars they look like a team, ready to show the Capitol their eagerness to fight. 

In the whole three months leading up to the reaping, they haven't discussed their roles in the rebellion anymore, have been utterly quiet about it all. It's obvious this Quarter Quell is a quest for President Snow to get rid of Katniss Everdeen and her fire that started the rebellion, but they all know it's quite convenient for him that several rebelling victors will be entering the Arena with her. If there's anything Blaine can do in the Arena to help the rebellion and the downfall of Snow along, he'll do it and their father had figured looking like a team, unwilling to go down without a fight, would be the start of it.

Isabelle leaves them alone to dress mostly, stands awkwardly beside the door as they all hug their mother and father goodbye, for what might just as well be the last time they ever see them. She isn't sure she is supposed to say, but Isabelle informs them the protocol has been changed and they won't be granted their chance to say goodbye after the reaping.

“They think you'll all do that before, since it's such a small reaping pool,” she says, with an apologetic look towards Quinn.

“Don't worry about it,” Quinn says, “it isn't your fault.”

“I just feel bad,” Isabelle admits, “there isn't anything I can do to help you and I feel terrible about that. I quite like you, despite all our differences, I like the way you won't let the world treat you like crap.”

“You're right, I won't,” Quinn quips, “and this is no exception. I'm not letting them treat me like this without holding them responsible, I promise.”

“Good,” Isabelle says and Blaine wonders if she even truly knows what she's agreeing with. That Quinn is talking about wanting to bring such an effect with her appearance in the Arena that people will fight until the Hunger Games are over, that she wants the world to change and won't stop until her fire burns as bright and heavy as Katniss's. 

“It's time to go,” she says, squeezing Blaine's shoulder. Blaine holds his mother for a few long seconds, before his father pries her off him and claps a strong hand on his shoulder.

“Be strong, my boys,” he says to both Blaine and Cooper, “I love you.”

Blaine tries his hardest not to break, the words falling heavy on his stomach. It feels like a stone dropped inside him, his father's words, which he meant to be a relief, weigh down heavy on his heart. His father had been distant, so distant with guilt since the announcement of the Quarter Quell and Blaine had so desperately wanted some recognition from him, but hearing his father tell them he loves them now feels like too much. Too little, too late. Another responsibility, another person he'll let down when he loses his life. Another person to come back to and face, feel guilty about losing Cooper, Quinn or both would he get back.

His fathers words of love are almost more painful than his mother's piercing sobs. He's heard those before, the first time he was hauled off to the Capitol, when the Quell was announced. His mother's sounds of agony are almost familiar to him now, where his fathers words of love form a new unsettling feeling deep in the pit of his soul. He wonders, briefly, how much more guilt and responsibility he can bear before he bursts at the seams, fire in his veins shooting through his body heavier than ever before.

He follows Isabelle, his brother and Quinn, who is as good as a sister to him, to the Justice Building. He's not put in a square full of candidates this time, they don't even have to sign up. All he has to do is follow Isabelle onto the stage and take his place next to his brother. Isabelle's face appears on the screen as she announces the Quarter Quell. They watch the clip about the Dark Days in silence, and Cooper's hand finds Blaine's. Blaine squeezes tightly and lets a single tear roll down his cheek. He hopes the cameras catch it, wants them to see how much it hurts to stand here next to his brother, a few feet away from the girl he trusts more than anyone in the world. Knowing fully well he is about to enter a nightmare. Come hell or high water, the Arena or a mentor, nothing that the future can bring will ever erase this from his mind and nothing will ever heal him from the scars this year's Games are about to inflict on him or his family.

“And now,” Isabelle says, “for this years female tribute.”

The audience on the square is dead quiet, Blaine wonders if they have constructed another riot to start after the reaping, though he doubts it with the square extra full of outer District's peacekeepers and officials. He doesn't get to contemplate about it long, as Isabelle's voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Quinn Fabray!” She announces. There isn't any applause, though it's usual, and Quinn takes two steps on the stage to stand right next to Isabelle.

Blaine isn't really aware of what happens with Isabelle and Quinn, he feels Cooper's hand go rigid in his own and then it starts to shake. When he looks up next to him, Cooper looks like he's in shock. He stares off into the distance, far beyond the crowd in front of them and tears are covering his face. His entire body is shaking, Blaine thinks he might be on the verge of collapsing. He pries his hand out of Cooper's tight grip and slings an arm around Cooper's waist, doing everything withing his power to keep his brother upright. Cooper, however, doesn't respond to anything.

“Blaine Anderson!” Isabelle's voice echoes across the square and it's only then Blaine realizes she has already picked the male tribute's name out of the bowl. He lets his arm slide off Cooper's body, Cooper keeps upright but doesn't respond. He shakes, still, and keeps staring off into space. He's completely out of this world, checked out the second Quinn's reentering the Arena became a solid concept with her name being reaped, and Blaine knows he's not going to volunteer anytime soon. He lets Cooper stand on his spot as he walks towards Quinn and Isabelle.

Quinn looks concerned to Blaine, but it's only slightly and only seen in her eyes. The crowd can't see it, to the crowd and to the cameras she most likely still looks as fierce as ever. She reaches out, Blaine walks past Isabelle, into her arms, without hesitation and clings to her.

“He'll never forgive himself,” she whispers, “when he comes back to himself and knows you're entering, he'll never get over this. You have to win.”

“He needs you more,” Blaine answers, “you can provide him with a love and a sense of security I never could.”

“If you die, he'll never forgive himself,” Quinn retorts and that's the moment Isabelle decides she's let them be free enough. She forcefully steps between them, takes each of their hands and raises them into the air. With a strained voice she announces, “I present to you District 9's seventy-fifth Hunger Games tributes, Quinn Fabray and Blaine Anderson.”

Everything from that moment is a blur, they're pushed towards the Justice Building, a peacekeeper practically dragging Cooper along, and they're pushed all the way to the back onto the platform, where their train to the Capitol awaits.

“Okay, okay,” Isabelle orders the peacekeepers surrounding the group, “I'm pretty sure they're not making a break for it, a little distance?”

The circle around them gets a little wider, though not much, and the next thing Blaine knows he's being shoved onto the train by a gun that pokes his back. The doors close the second Cooper is thrown inside, and the train begins to drive. 

Isabelle looks between them awkwardly, as if she's not sure what to do now her usual introductions to the tributes aren't necessary. She doesn't have to tell them the train ride takes fifteen hours, they already know that. She doesn't have to show them their assigned compartments, they already have them and she doesn't have to tell them to get some rest before dinner. Not because they know that, but because she knows there isn't any way the three of them will be able to find rest.

Cooper still seems oddly zoned out where he sits on the ground, having fallen down when the train started moving, and Quinn hauls him up and guides him towards his compartment. She tells him to   
snap out of it, that it will all be okay and that they'll fight. They'll fight. 

“We need you here, Cooper, with us,” she tells him, though there is no indication she is getting through to him. It's strange, almost, how a tribute tries to get through to her mentor. Because that is how the roles are now, Quinn and Blaine are Cooper's tributes. 

Blaine tries to find the part in himself where he had wished for Cooper to step up and volunteer, but he can't find it. Somewhere deep inside his soul he knows this is how it was supposed to be. Him and Quinn, against the other Districts. He knows this is the way they should have agreed on the formation to be, no matter what. Quinn and Cooper would have never been a good idea, they are too close to see each other die. Too close to be able to fight after the other's death. Of course, Blaine loves Quinn dearly and deeply, but not as much as Cooper does. It was always supposed to be him in that Arena with Quinn. Always. 

He finds his own compartment easily, having been on this train so much by now it hardly feels like he's away from home. Which, in fact, he is. There is a great chance this morning was the last he'd see of his father, of his mother and District 9. He hasn't even had a chance to say goodbye to Sue, or Tish's family. Halina, who had spent the morning steering clear of the family, he hasn't said goodbye to the quiet woman who had lost everyone because of the stupid rebellion.

That damned rebellion, that caused for Snow to manipulate this year's Quarter Quell in the first place. With his thoughts wandering from Halina, to Cooper, to Kurt and back around, to his family and his District, he falls into an uncomfortable sleep filled with nightmares and he doesn't wake until the following morning. It's early, and in the dining compartment he finds Quinn and Cooper curled up on one of the lounge chairs together, still fast asleep. He grabs a bun, being hungry from missing dinner the night before, and eats it. It tastes like cardboard, and the freshly squeezed orange juice he pours himself doesn't taste much different. He eats because his stomach growls and hurts, but in no way can he possibly enjoy the meal he was able to in the previous years.

Isabelle comes in just as he grabs his second bun and Blaine wonders how long she's been up already. She looks impeccable, to Capitol's standards. Her hair is high and pointy, silver lace woven into it. Her eyelids are painted with silver eyeliner, very much the same way Kurt has them permanently marked and her lips match them effortlessly. Her dress is simple, pale green and tight around her petite frame. Her shoes are high and, again, silver. It's almost as if she's done it on purpose.

She sits down across from Blaine quietly and throws him a meaningless smile. She eats some salad and two buns. She, too, seems not to enjoy them much, Blaine can read a dread in her eyes he can't quite place. 

“I don't want to wake them,” she says, and as soon as she speaks something in the room shifts. The awkward silence makes place for something more real, more prominent and painful. The tension remains, becomes nearly palpable and Blaine feels like bursting at the seams, ripping his skin off and screaming out the agony he burdens constantly inside. He doesn't, though, he doesn't even move at all. He looks Isabelle in the eye and sighs softly at the tears he sees her blink away.

“I can do it, if you want,” he whispers, assumes his brother and Quinn will prefer his gentle hand over Isabelle's businesslike demeanor anyway.

“No, it's not that – it's just, as soon as I wake them I'll rip them apart. Quinn will need to shower and get dressed and hauled off into prep as soon as she gets off the train. When they see each other again, it will be different. She'll be a real tribute then, and it will never be the way it is now anymore. I don't want to take that away from them.”

Just like that, Isabelle becomes that much more real, that much more human and Blaine feels a strange twinge of compassion towards her. He looks at her through unbiased eyes for a moment, sees a tired woman who has lived a hundred lives in the past few weeks, sees someone who genuinely cares for her tributes and briefly he entertains the idea of getting up and giving her a hug. Before he can really consider it he's pulled out of his thoughts by a thud and a loud groan. Looking to his left, he finds Cooper has fallen out of Quinn's embrace and to the floor. 

“Damn,” he mutters, and despite everything Blaine manages a giggle.

“I guess you won't have to worry about waking them anymore,” he tells Isabelle as they watch Quinn laugh and help Cooper up. 

It's a funny sight, Quinn in he gorgeous light blue dress, her sleeves slipped down her shoulders and her tiara askew on her head. Her feet are bare, her shoes abandoned next to the chair and her hand clutches to Cooper's tightly. Without her heels the dress is slightly too long for her, and she trips over it as he skips through the door towards their own compartment. 

About twenty minutes before they are due to arrive at the Capitol's train station Blaine excuses himself, needing some time alone before the crazy will ensue. He finds his way to the back of the train, a tip Johanna Mason told him about, and takes a deep breath and settles on the sofa all the way at the back of the compartment. Around him are nothing but windows and he lets serenity fall over him as trees and green land rush past. 

It's quiet, apart from the soft whoosh of the train. He sees wild animals, birds and the wind blowing in the trees and the quiet that radiates off the surroundings make him forget about the Capitol for a while, about the Arena and the fact that Cooper is about to lose either him or Quinn. He doesn't think about how he needs to come up with a strategy still. He's trained, he can fight but he doesn't know who yet, he had slept through the recap of the reaping. For now, though, all he does is watch the world disappear behind him. 

He starts watching ahead only when the train jolts a bit and he soon learns it's because they're entering the Capitol through the great walls surrounding it. The serenity the green surroundings brought him are taken away as soon as he sees the painting standing out against the gray concrete of the wall. It's large and an odd color of purple, and it makes Blaine wonder what it means that the rebellion's sign of the mockingjay has reached the Capitol. He can't get it out of his head, not until he steps off the train not much later and is swept away by the Games' craziness that greets him on the platform.

It's full of reporters, cameras and cheering Capitol fans. Quinn, he and Cooper wave politely, Blaine gets tired of it not a minute after he enters the platform and so he is extremely happy to see Sugar's face at the far end of the crowd.

She's in tears, she hugs him tightly and tells him she's going to do everything within her power to make him the most likable of this year's tributes. She tells him how much it hurts to send in someone she knows, that she loves Blaine so dearly and doesn't want him to lose and that she's sorry he'll be losing Quinn in the process but that he'll have to get over it because there isn't a way she could live with the guilt of having Blaine's death on her conscious. It's weird, Blaine wants to hug her and punch her at the same time.

He undergoes his prep ritual without complaining, or even groaning. It's a very basic ritual. They pluck his eyebrows, shave his facial hair and apply the cream that stings, the one that won't make it grow for half a year. Just like two years ago, he refrains from telling them he will most likely be dead before then. It didn't happen, then, either. Besides, they had been absolutely right about the hair not growing for six months.

When after not more than an hour of preparation Sugar orders the others to fetch Kurt, an unexpected blush rises in Blaine's cheeks. He hasn't spoken to Kurt since before the announcement of the Quarter Quell and with his mind occupied on feeling depressed and later training, he hadn't fully appreciated how much he missed Kurt until this very moment. The moment where he is about to see him again.

“Could you be a dear and get me some painkillers?” He asks Sugar. “Just light ones, I feel a head ache coming on.”

He doesn't, but he figures it will take her a while and it's the best excuse he can come up with to get her to leave so he can be alone with Kurt. She nods with tears in her eyes, kisses his cheek and then skips off, passing Kurt on her way out.

“Kurt,” Blaine breaths as soon as they lock eyes. With three long strides he's right in front of him, grabs his face and kisses him hard on the lips. Kurt's lips are pliant and eager against his own, Kurt swings his arms around Blaine's waist and pulls him in as close as he can get him. They kiss long and hard for a moment, before Kurt breaks away and crushes Blaine with force as he hugs him. He presses his face in Blaine freshly washed and damp curls, breaths him in and lets his tears fall on Blaine's bare shoulder.

Blaine grips tight on Kurt's dark gray jacket. It's a simple one, everything about Kurt seems simplified. The only silver thing about him are the everlasting streaks in his hair and lines around his eyes, the tattoo prominent and wet with tears. Kurt pulls back and Blaine looks directly into his eyes, surges forward for another kiss, but Kurt pushes him backwards.

“Damn you, Blaine,” he says, “I tried calling you every single night and you stopped answering. Do you know how worried I was? And the first thing I have to see of you again is on a screen, how your name gets reaped?”

“Kurt... I...-”

“I wanted to talk to you, I missed you and I love you and you choose to ignore me. You're an asshole, Blaine Anderson, a complete and utter asshole”

“I'm sorry?” Blaine tries, but Kurt stomps past him towards the closet he'd pulled Blaine's suit out of two years ago. 

“I had two designs in my head,” Kurt says, changing the subject and so Blaine thinks it's best to drop it until they're in a somewhat more private and intimate setting than this sterile room, “one for if Cooper had been reaped and one for you. But I'll let you choose.”

He pulls out two suits, one that looks a lot like the bread crust jumpsuit from his own Games and one that looks like a tuxedo made out of potato sack. Or, maybe, Blaine thinks, out of grain sack.

“I'm not sure I understand?” Blaine says, taking the grain sack suit from Kurt's and runs in through his hands. It's a rough fabric, can't be comfortable or even flattering and Blaine doesn't understand why Kurt would want to put him in something like that.

“It's symbolic for...-” Sugar chooses that moment to enter the room with a pill in one hand, a glass of water in the other.

“What's that?” She asks Kurt, when she sees the suit Blaine is holding. Blaine matches her questioning look towards Kurt, needing an explanation before he chooses.

“It's a throwback, to your first interview with Caesar,” Kurt shrugs, “I thought it would be a fun little detail. Remember how he said you wore a grain sack that time he interviewed you and your family after Cooper's victory?”

“Oh! That's so adorable!” Sugar answers, “you should wear that, the people will love a little nostalgic touch.”

Blaine gives her a tight smile, then turns to Kurt. “I remember that interview, Caesar called me a...-”

“So,” Kurt interrupts before Blaine can say the word rebel out loud, “are you wearing that, or the one Nine always wears?”

It hits Blaine then, that these suits are another way of Kurt and his clever communication system. Where in their phone calls they had to rely on words and ways around topics, here Kurt uses memories and clothing. The best way he knows how to communicate, to show his passion, by putting it all into his work. Blaine wishes he could lunge forward and bury his face in the crook of Kurt's neck, tell him how much he's missed him and how dearly he loves him. Tell him about the way his body feels vibrant around him and that Kurt is the only one he trusts besides his family. That he needs tonight to be here already, because even though that means his next days in the Arena are closer, it means he gets to sleep safe and sound in Kurt's arms again.

Because he understands that if he chooses what Nine always wears, he chooses the Capitol, he chooses to stay the way it always was. And because he knows Kurt is asking him now, what do you want to do? He's asking if they're being safe and do what the Capitol wants them to, or if they are still fighting and rebelling. In his first interview, Caesar had called Blaine a little rebel in a grain sack and if he chooses to wear the grain sack now, he will show Kurt, and maybe even president Snow, that he isn't going down without a fight.

He looks at Kurt for a moment, wonders what Kurt wants him to choose. He can't read it in his eyes, or his expression. Kurt is still mad at him and Blaine wishes he could tell Kurt how sorry he is, explain to Kurt how things have been and why he hasn't been in touch. He wonders if maybe things would have been better sooner had he heard Kurt's voice every night, but he can't. Not when Sugar stands just a few meters away from them still silently crying. Not when Kurt wants him to answer, are we fighting or is it over? Blaine knows it's his decision, his alone. He wishes Kurt would tell him what to do, or Cooper, but he has to decide if he wants to fight to keep himself alive or if he wants to fight to make the world a better place.

And that's the nuance, isn't it? He has to decide whether he'll be selfish fighter or a fighter for the greater good. Whatever he chooses, he'll most likely die in the process anyway and suddenly the decision is an easy one.

“I'll wear this,” he says with determination and holds up the grain sack.

Sugar gives a squeal, Kurt forces a smile and Blaine tries not to let a tear roll down his cheek when he sees the frustration growing in Kurt's eyes. 

Blaine pulls on the suit, lets Sugar and Kurt fuss over his hair and as Sugar keeps stopping to squeeze Blaine into uncomfortable hugs, Kurt sends her away. They are done long before it's time to get to the chariots for the opening ceremony, so they spend their afternoon curled on the couch. 

It's quiet at first, apart from the zooming sound of the bright lights above them. The air is stiff and the tension between them pregnant with fear and anger. Blaine's body aches to crawl close to Kurt and cry himself to sleep in those strong, pale and endless arms but he can't. He doesn't know what to say and so he waits, and waits, waits for Kurt to speak up. 

“I know it was worse for you than for me,” Kurt eventually breaks the silence, tentatively resting his own hand over Blaine's in between them. “But I do think I had a right to be upset as well. I know you heard that there was a great chance to go back in, but did you think about how that made me feel?”

“I..-”

“I couldn't sleep, for weeks I couldn't sleep and I tried calling you whenever I could but you wouldn't answer. I tried your parents house, but every time this girl would answer and as soon as I said my name she'd hang up. And then one time, your mom answered and she said you weren't capable of coming to the phone. I told her to tell you something and I thought maybe you'd get back to me, but you didn't and I couldn't sleep and I couldn't eat and I missed you and I started to think you didn't miss me anymore.”

“I didn't,” Blaine answers honestly when Kurt stops talking, “The moment the Quell was announced I lost my mind. I didn't want to go back in, I didn't know what to do because either way it was going to be hell and so I locked myself up and played the piano. It's all I did, all I ever did until my mom answered the phone. I'm sorry I didn't miss you, and I'm sorry I never talked to you but I hope you understand I had other things on my mind.”

“I didn't,” Kurt says now, “I didn't have anything other on my mind than this. Every day I was reminded, I needed to start samples for you and Cooper so I was reminded. I tried calling you and you wouldn't answer so I was reminded. Plutarch Heavensbee came to our house almost daily for dinner, and he was so enthusiastic about his ideas and I was reminded.”

Blaine shoots up, looks at Kurt and lunges forwards into his arms. “I'm sorry,” he whispers, over and over again, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry Kurt.”

Kurt's arms come around him, he hears the sniffling and knows Kurt is crying. He feels it coming up at the back of his throat, his eyes burn and as the salty tears stream down his face it gives off a nasty sting where his facial hair has been removed, but he lets them fall without care. Kurt is right here, with him and he can smell him and they have so little time until the Games begin. Plutarch has been around Kurt a lot, knowing Kurt was the only way to get in touch with Nine's tributes. He holds Kurt for as long is physically possible, and only when it's time for the opening ceremonies do they part.

Blaine finds his way to Quinn, who stands next to him in a form fitting dress made out of grain sack. “You look gorgeous,” he tells her. She mostly just looks pale and tired. Blaine tries not to look around to the other tributes, sees more familiar faces than he had wanted. He smiles politely at a few of them, waves to where he sees Johanna and Finnick talk. Johanna waves back with a bright smile, though she looks kind of ridiculous in her tree-dress and Blaine blushes a bright red as his eyes wander down Finnick's bare form. 

Everything for the rest of the day happens without Blaine paying much attention to it, they pass the Capitol's audience standing tall. None of the tributes wave like they do most years, all of them staring straight ahead, it's obvious they all are trying to stand above the Capitol. Blaine dares to look around, sees how ridiculous the older tributes are in their District's costumes. The tributes from Six look terrible, tiny and sick and when Quinn whispers “morphlings, they're addicts,” he understands they will probably be the first ones to die. President Snow says his words, mostly focused on the chariot where the tributes from Twelve stand. Katniss and Peeta are on fire, again, and steal the crowd's attention. Blaine doesn't mind, much, he wants to get this over with.

Once that happens, Isabelle takes all of them up to the new training center. It's a larger building, with their quarters bigger than before. Blaine gets situated in a room at the far end of the hall and Isabelle turns to Kurt and tells him she won't bother showing him his room with a wink. Kurt throws her a grateful smile and follows Blaine inside.

Blaine undresses slowly, tells Kurt to do the same. When Kurt looks at him questioningly, Blaine shrugs. “I just want to be skin to skin,” he explains, “nothing sexual, just want to be as close to you as I can get.” Kurt nods to that, takes of the dark gray suit he was wearing and slips into the bed with Blaine. They don't talk, but this time there isn't any tension or awkwardness. It's the closest Blaine thinks he can get to bliss in the few last days he has before he will start fighting for his life again. He knows Kurt probably has a lot to share with him, Quinn and Cooper. That there is some sort of a plan within the rebellion that needs to be addressed, but for now he lets himself drift off to sleep with the sweetest of smells comforting every nerve in his body.

He awakes later with a jolt, as the bed dips violently. Looking around, he finds Cooper and Quinn on either side of them on the bed. Cooper behind Kurt, Quinn in front of him. She smiles down at him sweetly and strokes his hair. 

“Cooper has been talking to Finnick and Mags today,” she says, “and we believe Kurt has some stuff to tell us.”

“Mags?”

“Four's female tribute,” Cooper explains, “she was Finnick's mentor back then.”

Blaine nods, and tries to hide a smile as Kurt grunts and rubs his eyes, waking up a lot harder than Blaine. Blaine looks out the window of his room, sees it's dark, as well as completely silent and wonders if he and Kurt have missed dinner. That would mean missing two dinners in a row. He hears Sue's voice in his head, yelling about how important a healthy meal is to stay in shape. He guesses he could order something, encouraged to do so when his stomach growls loudly.

He orders food from the menu he finds in the bedside table, and it gets sent up to his room pretty much immediately. They grab the meal and head to the roof. It's the dead of night, it's not like anyone in their quarters will overhear them but they can't be too careful. The rooftop, though, is loud and windy and decidedly the safest place to share secret in-tell. Blaine and Kurt settle next to each other, each of them picking at the food on the plate absentmindedly as Kurt starts to tell them all he couldn't in the months leading up to the Quell.

He tells them about how the moment the Quarter Quell was announced, Plutarch had stood on their doorstep to think of plans with Burt Hummel. How they had decided to find a way to get most victors out, and how Kurt himself had begged to at least save the tributes from District 9. He tells them Plutarch told him he was sorry, but couldn't make that promise. He tells them how close Plutarch is to President Snow and that he knows the Quarter Quell this year was only fabricated to destroy the image of Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay of the revolution. 

“He said he couldn't save you all,” Kurt whispers, “but he does want all the other tributes to save Katniss. She is the face of the rebellion and if she defeats the Capitol again, they think they have the greatest chance of overtaking Snow.”

“So you're saying?” Cooper asks. He seems to have come into himself again, though he keeps avoiding Blaine's gaze.

“I'm saying, Plutarch told me to give you guys the option between fighting for your own life and fighting to keep her alive.”

It's a bomb that drops in between the four of them, though it doesn't necessarily explode yet. Cooper pulls Quinn close to him, buries his face in her hair and inhales deeply. He whispers something in her ear, to which she scoots closer and nods.

“What will happen if we say no?” She asks.

“I'm not sure,” Kurt answers, “but being on Katniss's side is your greatest chance. He plans on breaking all of you out and taking you to District 13 at some point. Don't ask, yes Thirteen still exists he promises, I don't know any more about that. What I do know is that each informed tribute has a separate task in this operation and the remaining tributes at the break out point will all be rescued.”

“What would our task be?” Blaine follows up to Quinn's inquiry. 

“Do everything to keep the face of the rebellion alive. And right before the break out point, make sure her tracker is out. Attack her if you must.”

“Katniss?”

“The Mockingjay.”

“How much do they know?”

“Nothing,” Kurt answers, “Peeta and Katniss know nothing about this operation, because if all fails and we get caught by the Capitol, they will be the first ones to be interrogated.”

“We'll do it,” Cooper says, Blaine glares angrily at first, but then decides he must let Cooper talk. He knows Cooper has been in the rebellion longer than he has, has better insight in things like this and he knows Cooper functions as their mentor here. If this is the tactic he's going to use, Blaine as his tribute only needs to follow him.

“We will do everything within our power to save Katniss Everdeen,” he says, “because this world needs to change. The Games need to stop for future generations and we need to end this repression we live in. We were prepared to fight before, when nothing much was going on and now that it comes this close to home we need to keep fighting.”

“Easy for you to say,” Quinn starts, but Blaine interrupts her.

“We'll fight, for the future's right,” he says. He scoots closer to Kurt, plate of food forgotten in front of them and he lets himself be buried deep inside Kurt's arms. “We'll do it, but now we'll spend as much time as we need together. There is a great chance that in the Arena we need to sacrifice ourselves to save Katniss, save the rebellion and the future, so please tell me for now we can forgo training and just be together?”

“You'd need to befriend Katniss or Peeta to get their trust,” Cooper says, but Quinn interrupts now. 

“We have Johanna's trust, and Finnick's trust. We'll make sure they know we're in and we'll manage.”

Later that night, back in Blaine's bed and Kurt's arms, Kurt tells him how surprised he is they decided so quickly. He tells Blaine that he himself had struggled with everything much more, that he had wanted Blaine to fight selfishly for them. 

Blaine, in turn, explains to Kurt how much more he fights for them and their love now. That if he manages to survive, they'll be in the rebellion and they'll change the world. That their love won't be illegal anymore if they can just make sure to win this fight. Kurt kisses him in return, hard and deep, and makes him promise to do everything within his power.

Kurt keeps kissing him and Blaine keeps kissing him back, their tongues battling in a much sweeter way than Blaine will do in the Arena. Kurt promises Blaine forever, Blaine promises fearlessly back. They twine their bodies, rock together and every nerve in Blaine's being feels on fire on a whole new level. All fear and dread leave him for this moment and all he feels is Kurt, love and safety. He writhes against Kurt's frame, claws at his back until he's as physically close as is humanly possible and all the while their lips remain connected.

With the thoughts of fighting fearlessly, forever, for loves like theirs to have free reign, they stay awake and connected until morning comes and Isabelle's name calls them to the breakfast table. 

It takes them some effort to convince Isabelle to skip training, but when Cooper 'accidentally' slips they've been training with Sue and he just wants to spend as much time with his brother and girlfriend as possible, she seems to melt and lets them off their duties for the day, just as long as Cooper promises he won't neglect his duties as mentor and try to gather sponsors. Little does Isabelle know that they'll get Plutarch Heavensbee's insiders as their very own personal sponsors now they have decided to join the battle.

Blaine slightly feels like the decision was made for him, that Kurt had forced him into it with his grain suit and Cooper as a mentor had promised they'd join, but deep down he knows this is the only way he has a chance to get out. If the head gamemaker truly is set on getting Katniss out alive, him choosing for himself would mean turning against the head gamemaker. And so he doesn't fight it much. 

He talks about it with Kurt, though, as they lie under the covers naked that day. He whispers how scared he is that at some point he will have to sacrifice himself to save her, that he thinks these are his last days with Kurt. Kurt answers by pulling him close and covering every inch of his skin with kisses, promising they'll make the most of the little time they have. Which they do. They spend every other minute with Cooper and Quinn, Isabelle kind enough to steer clear of the quarters most of the days. Their avoxes and Tina manage to stay out of their way as well, Blaine isn't even sure he has seen them at all. 

Cooper does everything in his power to avoid the subject of the reaping, not wanting to talk about his black out. Blaine doesn't blame him, not in the slightest, but he indulges Cooper and doesn't mention it. Kurt does cry over it at night, silently admitting he had wished it was Cooper and that he feels awful about it. Blaine kisses his lips and says he understands why Kurt had such dark thoughts and that this is just the way it is now. He kisses Kurt's lips and strikes one of the silver streaks where it's plastered to his forehead, he scoots closer and presses his naked body up against Kurt's as close as he can get.

They spend all their time that's not with Quinn and Cooper like that, naked in bed pressed as tightly together as they can get. Kurt sometimes still hesitates and pulls back, says he's afraid of what is to come. That he isn't sure if he can convince Plutarch to have him join them on their journey to Thirteen, that he is afraid of Blaine dying and that he's afraid being this close might break his heart even more.

Blaine, however, never lets him pull back too far. He holds him tight around his waiste and keeps whispering how much he loves Kurt, that he cannot fight if he doesn't know for certain Kurt will be waiting on the other side. He knows it's a lot to put on Kurt, but it's true and it's something he needs to say. With thoughts of Kurt and Cooper waiting for him, maybe even Quinn's probable death won't stop him from fighting.

Johanna and Finnick, as well as Beetee and Wiress from District 3 have special orders from Plutarch regarding the outbreak mission, and so Quinn and Blaine are let out of the loop of information pretty much to the same extent as Katniss and Peeta. The only thing they know more than them is that there is a plan in the first place, and that Katniss needs to be alive when they execute it. There are a few other Districts in on the mission, all of them prepared to die for Katniss's sake. Plutarch, who comes by on the day before rating, presses to them that they need to save Peeta as much as Katniss.

“Katniss will not want to be in an alliance with anyone if Peeta isn't there,” he explains. Blaine's heart sinks to his stomach. He is entering the Arena with a promise to save two lives of people he has never even met before. Had it been for Johanna, for Finnick or even the morphlings that are entering the Arena for Six, he would have at least known them.

Kurt seems to take that worse, knowing that Blaine has two lives he needs to maybe sacrifice himself for. He gets angry with Plutarch at first, who merely throws him off with an angry glare and tells him to calm down or he'll have his quarter privileges revoked. And with that Blaine, as well as Cooper and Quinn, understand they cannot mess with the head gamemaker. He calls the shots and if he doesn't like what someone does, he has to power as well in the Capitol as in the rebellion to eliminate them. 

Blaine doesn't really know what to do about his rating the next day, goes into it as unprepared as two years ago and manages to do the same thing again. This time, though, he makes sure to land somewhere safer than on the gamemakers' platform and that night he gains a respectable seven. Quinn, who had chosen to show basic hunting skills and knots, gains a high nine. It shows, Blaine thinks, that the scores mean nothing more than what the Capitol wants the scores to be. Quinn is more popular than Blaine. They have known her for longer, and though Blaine is fresher in their minds, a pretty girl always wins. 

Things with rating don't get weird until Katniss and Peeta each earn a historic twelve. No one in the Games has ever before been rated so high. “Probably so all the sponsors Plutarch gets them won't be suspicious,” Kurt smartly deducts later that night, and Blaine catches it only because he is unable to fall asleep, somewhat nervous for his interview the next day.

Isabelle tries her hardest to guide Quinn and Blaine in the right direction for their interview, wants them to gather sponsors they know they won't need anyway. Instead, they look at each other and know all they need to do now is wait for what the other tributes do and not disappoint.

Kurt dresses Blaine in a simple, silver suit, it fits him perfectly and he feels proud for a few short moments, until he sees Quinn and understands again that what they really are doing here is ripening them all for slaughter. Tina, who has been suspiciously absent over the past four days, has dressed Quinn mostly in pink. Her hair is longer than it naturally is, pink streaks through it. She has large, fake, pink eyelashes stuck to her lids and her dress is completely pink, with silver hoops woven all around it. She looks gorgeous, disturbingly so and Blaine's is just about to say something when behind her Katniss emerges. 

She's dressed in one of the wedding gowns that had been shown on the broadcast, and she looks gorgeously terrifying. The entire crowd of tributes falls silent as she enters, gawking at the cruelty of what she says president Snow has insisted upon. Blaine's attention only gets distracted when someone shoves him forward and he realizes Quinn is walking onto stage. The crowd cheers for her, though not very enthusiastically and Blaine wonders what he has missed, what has made them so subdued.

Quinn talks about home, how she has lost her parents right after her games and that she was only just picking her life back up when she was to be a mentor. That she thinks of Blaine as her little brother, always has and that she was broken on the inside when Blaine's name was reaped two years ago. Her words ring true, Blaine remembers her distance well as she speaks about it. She tells them how grateful she was for the people of the Capitol to have helped her save Blaine and he hears someone sobbing in the front row. Caesar, too, wipes a tear away from his cheek. She says she can't ever repay the Capitol for what they have done for her and that she's sorry they are about to lose so many of their amazing tributes. She is trying to get their sympathy, empathy even, and it seems to work.

When Blaine walks on stage after Quinn, he decides to talk about Cooper and only Cooper. He finds him and Kurt sitting beside each other in the audience and somehow he ends up talking about all the amazing people he has met in the Capitol. He mentions Kurt, Tina, Isabelle and he mentions how the other victors are his friends. He says it's going to be hard to fight against Johanna because he thinks she's amazing and he says he doesn't know how he could ever kill sweet old Mags. Technically he has never spoken to her, but he has seen her on the tour and around last year so it's believable at least. The crowd loves it, as does Caesar, and he wishes Blaine the best of luck in this terrible time of need.

He takes his place next to Quinn and doesn't really pay attention to the other tributes, who seem to only make the crowd more subdued and sob louder. It isn't until Katniss walks on in her wedding gown that the crowd even reacts to a costume. And it's not even really the wedding dress that calls for the loudest reaction of the Capitol. When Katniss does her signature twirl, the dress seems to light up for real and as she keeps spinning it turns black as coal. She raiser her arms above her head once the smoke blows off and it's only then that Blaine and Quinn simultaneously gasp. Cinna has turned Katniss into a Mockingjay.

Right here, in front of the entire population of Panem to see he shows everyone who might have still been in doubt that she is, and will be, their Mockingjay. The audience doesn't seem to grasp it, for them the Mockingjay is a simple fashion outlet and so the reaction to the transformation from Capitol Chosen Bride to Leader of the rebellion goes fairly unnoticed. Only in Kurt and Cooper's eyes can Blaine read the fear as well as pride.

Peeta, as the male of District 12, is up last and when he hesitantly announces Katniss is with child he manages to wipe every other District's chances away. The crowd erupts in loud screaming, they chant for Katniss and for Peeta, for the Games to be canceled. Blaine can't make out what any of them say, all he knows now is that at some point Quinn grabs his hand tightly and when he looks down the line he sees other tributes do the same. He grabs the hand of the District 10's female on his other side and lifts them high above his head. Everything around them is loud, the anthem's rhythm vibrating through his body. He sees them all holding hands, united, on a big screen before it gets cut off.

Everything then is a blur, people around them push them towards the elevators but make sure only tributes from the same District get on one. He tries to get to Katniss, to Peeta to ask if it is true, if she's really pregnant and he tries to get to Johanna to make sure she knows they're in on the rebellion before she kills him tomorrow at the Cornucopia. 

Tomorrow.

He doesn't get to any of them, instead he and Quinn get pushed onto an elevator together and it shoots up to the ninth floor before he can even wave at Wiress from District 3 to tell her he's on their side. Upstairs they are greeted by a distressed Cooper, who frantically walks around the living area, muttering under his breath.

“They sent everyone home,” he says to Blaine apologetically, “I'm sorry, everyone has gone home, Kurt isn't here.”

If Blaine had been waiting for the last bit that would make him crumble, this would not have been what he expected. Yet, the moment he hears Kurt won't be in his bed with him tonight he collapses. It's as if the fire in his veins finally finds its way out, through his spine it ripples over his tongue and out into Nine's quarters. He screams, yells and cries until his lunges give out. His heart beats wildly against his ribcage, as his mind runs in circles around the thought of where Kurt could be right now.   
He pushes Cooper and Quinn off him as they try to comfort him, he balls his hands into fists and slams against the carpet.

Whatever was building up inside him, the anger and hurt, all the pent up frustration of what the Capitol is doing to him and his family comes out. He cries and cries until he can't anymore, he cries until his body gives up and he just lies there, unmoving, he cries, kicks and screams until he can't protest to Cooper picking him up and putting him to bed anymore.

Cooper crawls behind him, Quinn lies in front of him and for the first time since he won the Games two years ago he hears her sing their song again. She sings it softly about pureness and innocence, while stroking his cheek in a motherly fashion. Her caring touch, her pure and gorgeous voice and Cooper's arms tight around him make it able for Blaine to drown out the buzzing sounds from the streets below. Exhausted from this day, this evening and this life, he manages to find a dreamless sleep, the last night he'll have before the Quarter Quell officially kicks off.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where Hunger Games canon will be slightly altered, but not the overal plot! I'm sorry about the inconsistent updates, real life has been extremely shit the past week. I'll try and update the last two parts before the promised end date on the 15th!

 

Blaine is roused by the gentle hand of an avox the next morning. He hasn't seen her before, or he has. She looks familiar and concerned, Blaine feels as if he should be comfortable around her. She leaves him after he's woken up properly enough to get out of bed and get dressed, and only when he is alone he wonders where Cooper and Quinn might have gotten off to.

 

He dresses in simple clothes, knowing he'll have to change into the tributes costume soon enough. His body is heavy, heavier than before. His bones ache with dread and exhaustion and every inch within him longs for Kurt to hold him. He knows Kurt will, that he'll see Kurt shortly before entering the Quarter Quell's Arena, but it won't be enough. Nothing will ever be enough when it could be the last time. He hopes it isn't, will do everything to make sure it isn't. It could be.

 

Blaine finds Quinn and Cooper at the breakfast table, their chairs scooted close together and Quinn's head resting on Cooper's shoulder. Cooper tries to feed her, but Blaine is quite sure her mouth feels as much as cotton as his does. Neither of them eat, neither of them have any energy to put towards anything other than getting through the morning. They'll enter the Arena at noon, until then everything is unimportant.

 

As much as Cooper tries to force Quinn and Blaine to eat, Blaine notices he doesn't take a single bite of his cinnamon roll either. They all just sit there, in silence, neither of them saying a word and still the silence is too loud. It's too loud when the avox walks in and Blaine almost feels as if he can hear her stare at Cooper. She looks so frustratingly familiar, and with the way she keeps looking between the three of them meaningfully Blaine thinks she might be from Nine. He stores her face away for later, if later ever comes, and concentrates on what's important today.

 

Surviving, surviving, always surviving. He tries not to notice the loud silence around him, every scrape of Quinn's fork aimlessly scratching at her plate, every sigh Cooper lets out and every whisper of love they share between each other. It's too much for Blaine, the quiet zooming of the preview broadcast in the background. Their interviews are repeated, filled with tears but cut short and any criticism towards the Capitol left out. They don't show Katniss twirling and turning into the Mockingjay, they don't show her saying she is. Blaine knows Panem has seen it, though, Blaine knows the rebels have been urged on by Cinna's bold design.

 

He knows, too, that he needs to save her. If he wants Panem to have a future she needs to defy the Capitol again and again. If the Mockingjay dies now, here in the Arena they designed to destroy her, they will have won. Blaine is not ready to lose. Even if winning means giving up his life to save the embodiment of the revolution, he will.

 

“It's time,” Cooper says too soon, he nudges Quinn up and gestures for Blaine to do the same. He does so as quietly as possible, as if to spare his powers for the Arena. His mind is a juggle of thoughts, he longs to sling an arm around Quinn's waist and stay at her side throughout the day, another part of him wants to run and flee and take no one with him. Mostly, though, he wants today to be over. If he'll be dead before midnight, so be it. He just needs to get through this morning, through the trip to wherever this years Arena is and he needs to get through the ten minutes he gets before with Kurt. Anything beyond that is outside his grasp right now, as if it's something his brain can't comprehend quite yet.  
  


“Cooper,” he whispers, voice broken and one foot already inside the elevator. Quinn is still plastered to Cooper's side and her face buried in his neck. Cooper tries to pry her away, but she clings to him tightly. Blaine feels his blood boil in his veins. He loves Quinn, he does, and he will need to keep loving her throughout this experience because it'll keep him sane. But in this moment, he doesn't particularly like her. 

 

Cooper throws his free arm around Blaine and steps in close, dragging Quinn with him. Blaine buries his face in Cooper's neck on the other side of Quinn and he wishes for her to step away. He knows she loves Cooper, and he knows this is hard for her as well, but he needs his time alone with his brother. He feels like he has a right to say goodbye to his brother on his own, without Quinn attached to his very being.

 

“I love you,” he whispers, because there is nothing else too say. It feels like too little, too meaningless and too much all at once. He wishes he could say more, promise to survive and promise to see each other soon, but he can't. There's nothing in this world that would be enough now. Not when he's on his way to an Arena where he might have to sacrifice himself to save the future of their world.

 

“Me too,” Cooper whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of Blaine's head and then he nudges Blaine towards the elevator, peeling Quinn off him with force. He presses a kiss to her lips, long and hard, and then pushes her straight into Blaine's arms. She throws two arms around Blaine as the elevator doors slide close, blocking their view from Cooper. The doors click shut, and it works like a charm on Quinn. The second Cooper is out of reach, she heaves a deep breath and untangles herself from Blaine.

 

She doesn't say anything, just lets her left hand slide down Blaine's right arm, to grip his hand. They ride down the elevator in silence, and reach the ground floor too soon. On the other end of the doors stand four peacekeepers, two take Blaine from each side, the others prying Quinn from him and they take her. Neither Blaine nor Quinn protest, there's nothing they can do now. They obligingly walk with the peacekeepers, and take their seats in the hovercraft quickly.

 

Around them their friends start arriving too, Finnick and Mags first, Johanna with the male tribute from her District second. Katniss and Peeta arrive last, after which the hovercraft door closes and lifts into the air. All twenty-four tributes get trackers jacked into their arms, but Blaine is so preoccupied with the thought of needing to say goodbye to Kurt that he hardly even feels the pain.

 

The ride is long, too long for Blaine, even if it's taking him to an almost certain death trap. It's taking him to Kurt, too, and that's all he can think about. He looks around the seats to the other tributes, wonders how many of them have left loved ones behind the way he and Quinn are leaving Kurt and Cooper. He knows Finnick left Annie, he remembers seeing one of the women having to peel three crying children off her when her name was reaped. He hadn't thought about these things the last time he went into the Arena, everything is different now.

 

When they arrive at wherever this year's Arena is located, Blaine doesn't get a last chance to say anything to Quinn. All of them are hauled up forcefully by peacekeepers, led to the tiny rooms where they'll get into tubes and launched into the Arena. Blaine is pushed into a room, much like the room he and Kurt first kissed in two years ago, and the door behind him closes with a loud thud.

 

Kurt sits on a couch, the head he had buried in his hands shoots up as soon as Blaine enters the room, and after the door closes his entire body follows. He rushes to Blaine and gathers him in his arms, before they sink to the ground together and wrapped up in each other. Kurt scrambles towards Blaine, crawling into him as closely as he can. They smell each other, breathe each other in for the few short minutes they have. Everything in this room reminds Blaine, yet again, how vastly

these Games will differ from any other games.

 

He smells it in Kurt's fresh scent, he knows it in the way Kurt holds him. He feels it in the way his stomach clenches at the thought of killing people. The fact that he's not against it, the fact that he's thinking of how the quickest way would be to eliminate the enemy. He knows District 1 and 2 have to be disposed off as fast as possible, knows they're not to be trusted. He knows everyone in this Arena has killed before, no one is new to the sensation. They're all prepared, all damaged and all ready to be damaged a little more severely.

 

He claws at Kurt's simple shirt, taking as much of him in as is humanly possible. He breathes against Kurt's neck and lets no tears flow. He can't go into the Arena with tear stained eyes. He holds Kurt, rubs his back through the sobbing and kisses the tears away from his cheeks.

 

“You have to survive,” Kurt whispers hoarsely, “you have to survive, you have to survive.”

 

“I'll try,” Blaine answers. It's the best he can do.

 

“Please,” Kurt begs then, “please, please, please.”

 

“I'll try,” Blaine whispers again, pressing a firm and confident kiss to Kurt's perfect mouth. He doesn't press further, doesn't open his mouth for tongue. All he can give, all he has to give is a hard press of confirmation and love.

 

Blaine changes into his tribute suit quickly. It's a simple, thin blue jumpsuit that indicates a warm Arena. The boots are much lighter than the ones he wore in the icy winter two years ago, and as a finishing touch Kurt attaches plastic purple belt around his waist.

 

“If you survive, we should go swimming together,” he says as he clicks it shut, “I really like swimming.”

 

Blaine looks between the belt and Kurt puzzled, he's sure this was one last attempt at code language, only Blaine can't decipher what. It's not like he still can learn how to swim now. Or is Kurt asking if he did learn how to swim. If so, why would it be so important?

 

“We should,” he says, “I love it too.”

 

Kurt brushes their noses together, leans in slowly and lets his lips glide over Blaine's. He doesn't press for a kiss, he simply makes them breathe together. The way their lips slide against each other makes Blaine's entire body tingle, from head to toe he feels covered in sparkles and butterflies and for a few short moments he forgets what is about to happen. His hands are on Kurt's strong, gorgeous upper arms and his thumbs stroke in tune with the gliding of their lips. Their breath mingles and their faces are so close Kurt's tears land on Blaine's cheek and roll down from there.

 

When a voice announces it's two minutes until take off, it's as if in Blaine's mind he's back to two years ago. Back to the moment Kurt broke down, telling him how he was the first subject Kurt had ever designed for. He remembers feeling so overwhelmed by how much Kurt cared, so much love even then. And here, two years later, he is again. In this man's arms, and there is nowhere he'd rather be right now than pressed against him. Kurt pulls back, slightly, whispers words of love and pleads for Blaine to live. He doesn't plead for Blaine to win, he knows about the plans, he just pleads for Blaine to live. To survive until it's time, to survive until they'll come to get him.

 

“Thank you,” Blaine whispers back, “thank you for keeping your promise.”

 

“My promise?” Kurt asks.

 

“Two years ago I asked you to always care, and here you are, caring so much. Thank you.”

 

Kurt attempts a smile, but his eyes betray him. They shine with tears, despair and pleads. No smile reaches them.

 

_30 seconds till take off._

 

Blaine surges forward, presses his lips to Kurt one final time. He kisses as if it is their last kiss, in the same place and at exactly the same moment as where they shared their first two years ago.

 

“I love you,” he says before he gets into the tube and lets it close around him. He doesn't put his hand on the glass this time, he just keeps looking at Kurt until the platform begins to move. He stays upright, knows if he crouches down to watch Kurt for as long as possible the audience will see him like that. Tributes uninvolved to the rebels will see him like that, deem him weak and make him their first target to kill.

 

He stands tall, and soon the ceiling above him opens. Just like the first time around, a bright white light appears. His head is through and Kurt is out of sight. He pushes away the sensation Kurt's lips left, tingling on his own, and forces himself to take in his surroundings. Two years ago he had been hit with a sharp cold when his head went through, this time it's a stuffy heat that overwhelms him. There's a salty smell in the air and as his eyes slowly adjusts he immediately understands why Kurt had been so adamant he learn to swim. He's stood on a platform in the middle of what seems like a small salt lake.

 

To his left there's something that looks like a stripe of land, and to his right he finds Blight, the male tribute from Seven. He looks further, trying to find Quinn but he only sees Johanna, Wiress from Three, Cecelia from Eight and the two morphlings from Six. He wishes he knew their names.

 

The Cornucopia seems to stand in the middle of the perfectly round lake, twelve sections in it lined with stripes of land. Within each of those sections stand two tributes, and Blaine wonders how many will just drown in the first few minutes because they never learned how to swim. Blaine assumes Quinn is on the other side of the Cornucopia, closes his eyes and listens to Claudius Templesmith's voice as he counts down from twenty to zero. He has exactly twenty seconds to come up with a plan before the bloodbath emerges.

 

Twenty-four trained tributes stand around him, on metal plates amidst the water. He doesn't know if they can swim, how many of them can swim, but he knows once they get to the Cornucopia they know how to kill. The plan up until now was to team up with other rebelling tributes, but he guesses he has to see how he's going to survive first.

 

The countdown hits zero and without preamble Blaine dives to his left, swims effortlessly towards the spoke of land there and reaches it before he can think better of it. He stands aimlessly for a short while, looks around and tries to decide whether he should run to the beach behind him or the Cornucopia in front of him. He sees Johanna climb on the spoke closest to her, and sees her running towards the middle of the lake. He knows she knows they're involved in the plan to keep the Mockingjay alive, so he thinks his best bet is to stay with her.

 

He runs towards the Cornucopia, screaming Johanna's name. She waves at him, yells for him to duck and a knife zooms right over his head, hitting Beetee, the male tribute from Three, in the back. A large gap is torn in his jumpsuit and Blaine can see the blood immediately dripping out from it. Johanna throws an axe to behind Blaine, where she hits someone square in the chest. Blaine can't see who it is, they fall back into the water immediately and he assumes they drown.

 

“You get Beetee,” Johanna yells at him, “I'll get supplies.”

 

He supposes he should trust her, she knows about the plans and she's been in collaboration with Finnick. Blaine only knows he should trust Finnick to know when the rescue mission will happen, and that he and Johanna would make sure they know everything they need to know in the Arena. Blaine looks around, trying to find a sign of Quinn but he can't. He only hopes she is able to get in touch with Finnick so she can join him in the mission. He doesn't want to think about what would happen if she has to walk around this Arena full of killers on her own.

 

Blaine dives back in the water when Johanna calls his name again, more urgent this time, and he swims over to Beetee to help him out. He puts both his arms under Beetee's armpits, the way Sue Sylvester taught him he needed to in case of a rescue, and starts swimming towards the Cornucopia.

 

“No, beach!” He hears Johanna yell, he looks aside, sees her running down her spoke, hands full of weapons. Everything else seems calm on this side of the Cornucopia, almost as if the entire bloodbath is happening on the other side and Blaine can't say he is complaining. The only worry he has is that Quinn is on that side and what if she isn't anymore? What if soon a hovercraft will appear over the Arena and grip her body from the water, or from where the Cornucopia stands.

 

Blaine closes his eyes, focuses on the weight of Beetee in his arms and pretends it's someone he loves. It would be so easy to let go of Beetee, save himself and swim to shore. He's in the Arena, instinct tells him to leave everyone behind and save himself. Find his District mate and fend for themselves. Screw the plan, screw the Mockingjay and try to survive alone. But he also knows that this is the only way now, and if they need Beetee to get out of this Arena, he'll have to make sure Beetee gets out of the water in the first place.

 

He reaches the sandy beach short of breath, Beetee almost unconscious from blood loss and distortion. His District's female tribute, Wiress, rushes to his side and starts mumbling to him. Johanna hauls him up and inspects his back. She informs them there were no supplies other than weapons at the Cornucopia, but that she managed to confiscate quite a few axes and a useless peace of wire she thought was too strange and specific to leave lying around. At the mention of the wire, Beetee fires up and seems to regain a little energy in his body. He asks to see it, so Johanna gives it to him.

 

“Perfect,” he mutters, “perfect, yes, perfect.”

 

“Just what we need,” Wiress agrees, “just what we need. Just what we need.”

 

“Great,” Johanna interupts them, “Finnick gets on the fun side and I'm here stuck with Nuts and Volts and someone who didn't even think it was necessary to show up to training.”

 

Johanna doesn't even look at Blaine when she says it, instead nudges her head to back where she sees her District partner washing to shore.

 

“How did he not drown?” Blaine asks, he'd seen Blight struggle keeping his head above water earlier, yet there the man is, scrambling up on the sand and making a beeline for Johanna. She looks affronted but welcomes him in her arms anyway. Blaine thinks he understands, they must know each other pretty well, living together in Victor Village in their District. He looks at Johanna and Blight, looks at Beetee and Wiress and then looks back to the Cornucopia. He wants Quinn.

 

“Let's move,” Johanna says after a silent minute, “we need to find drinkable water.”

Blaine nods, as does Wiress.

 

“Come on Volts,” Johanna nudges Beetee, “get a move on.”

 

Volts, -Beetee, Blaine corrects himself in his head, he doesn't like using nicknames that might offend or demean someone, not in here- groans. Blood is still gushing from the wound in his back, though now that he's on land it doesn't seem as bad as it did in the water. Blaine throws one arm under Beetee's armpit and hauls him up. He gestures for Johanna to do the same, and together they manage to get him on his feet.

 

“Into the woods,” Blaine says, though he isn't sure if what he sees ahead of him are even woods. He just means they need to conceal themselves, away from where any unknowing tributes might find them. He wonders briefly how weird it must look for two strong ones like Johanna and himself to take on these weak tributes as their allies. It must not make any sense to the viewing audience. They could just as well leave Beetee behind, have him bleed to death or dehydrate before he gets that far. Johanna could easily take out a knife and stab Wiress several times, Blaine could even do it. It's nothing he hasn't done before. He remembers Four from his year, his hand around Blaine's throat while Blaine drove the knife into his gut time and again. Just the thought makes him choke again.

 

“You okay?” Johanna's voice sounds concerned, but strained at the same time. Beetee's full weight rests on the both of them, and in the heat of the full sun on their backs, together with the humid air, it makes both of them stressed out sooner than they would like to admit. It's as if all the training, all the strength Blaine has built up in the past few weeks, disappears with the sweat that leaves his body. He's panting, dragging Beetee along with him. The man is incoherent for the most part, mumbling things under his breath, the wire Johanna found for him clutched tightly in the hand that's slung around Blaine's shoulder.

 

They walk for a long while, and Blaine can feel his mouth drying up much faster than it should. He is thirsty after maybe forty minutes of dragging Volts around. Beetee. His breath is ragged, as is Johanna's and behind him he can hear that Blight and Wiress aren't any easier off.

 

“There's no water,” Wiress says in a dreamy like voice after a few more hours of walking, dragging mostly, “no water, there isn't any water.”

 

“We know there's no water, Nuts,” Johanna bites and Blaine, despite himself, chuckles. Johanna gives him an angry stare, “I wish I could just kill them,” she grits through her teeth, “just get it over with.”

 

“You could,” Blaine challenges, wondering how much information he can get out of her, wanting to desperately know how they're going to need these three weaklings to break out of the Arena.

 

“They're friends,” Johanna answers weakly, everything in her face showing how much these people are not her friends, “I only killed someone back there because they tried to kill you. I don't want to kill anyone anymore, I know everyone in here too well.”

 

Blaine nods, supposes it's fair enough of her to use this opportunity to explain their funny little alliance they've got going on. He hopes the audience buys it. Or at least President Snow, if the audience doesn't buy it and it fires rebelling it's not a waste, but if Snow doesn't buy it and has Johanna and him executed through forces inside the Arena, that would be a shame. Especially since it seems like she and Finnick are the only ones who know the full plan.

 

They're getting exhausted and dehydrated at a fast pace, the heat and foliage wearing them out more than they can afford. The sound of the cannon going of six times startles both him and Johanna into a halt, causing Wiress to bump into them. Beetee falls in between them and with one simple look both Johanna and Blaine understand they need to rest.

 

“Only six killed in the bloodbath, that's not much.” Blaine says then, wanting to take his mind of the stupid plan for just a moment. Not that thinking about the bloodbath is any better, images of Quinn's body floating around surrounded by her own blood consume him pretty much as soon as he drops Beetee to the ground to look around and see if the Cornucopia is still in view. It isn't.

 

Johanna says nothing, just sits down and starts randomly picking at moss. Blaine sits down next to her, taking deep and steady breaths, trying to ignore the thirst building up inside himself. Wiress keeps walking around them in circles, Blight following her as if she's actually going somewhere.

 

“We're here with a bunch of lunatics,” Johanna mutters, “we have to find the others.”

 

They sit there for a long while, perhaps too long. They're an easy target this way, without any food or water in their system they're weakening soon and with just a few knives and axes as their weapons they stand no chance against bows and spears. It starts to darken in the forest, or jungle, and they're all silent. No one says a word for what feels like hours, until Wiress falls down exhausted from the laps she's walking and Johanna's stomach grumbles loudly.

 

“We need to find food at least,” she says with more force than she probably intended.

 

“Hold on,” he says, “let me see what's going on.”

 

“You're not going back there,” Johanna urges, pointing in the direction of the Cornucopia, “you and I are the only sane ones in this group, if I lose you out there none of us will be sane.”

 

“You'd still be sane.”

 

“No,” she says, “I wouldn't.”

 

“Alright, fine,” he answers, taken aback by Johanna's sudden confession. Sure, they get along and it's nice to have someone to talk to in the Arena, but he hadn't expected her sanity to rely on his presence, “lucky for you I'm an excellent climber.”

 

He climbs the tree efficiently, despite his exhaustion and the headache from dehydration that starts to kick in. He focuses on placing his feet right, gripping to the trunk with his hands. These trees, they're different from other trees he's climbed before and even though it's still one of his best skills, it requires more concentration than he would like to use. It tires him out, quickly, and the higher he climbs the more the sun flares on his skin.

 

He's annoyed, remembers the large ice burned blisters on his hands from two years ago and wonders if this year the sun will burn him enough to blister on the first day. Either way, he feels the sting from too bright sunshine before he gets to the top of the tree. In front of him he sees the lake, as perfectly round as he expected it to be. Amidst the lake stands the Cornucopia, large and seemingly deserted. He sees a few bodies on the ground around it, and one floating in the water, but he can't see who they are. He's too far off to see if either Quinn or the Mockingjay are among them.

 

Now he's up in the tree he takes the chance to look around and see if he can find water, but it seems like Wiress is right. There is none. He sees the sun starts to set across from where he is now, estimating the time is about eight o'clock at night. Just as he's about to climb down, the anthem starts playing and up in the sky he sees the faces that have died today.

 

He sees a hovercraft appear in the corner of his eye, collecting the pieces of the bodies. Six people have died, the first two he can't name, then Cecelia's face from Eight appears and Blaine's heart speeds up. In a way he's happy he's up in the tree alone, where he's about to find out if Quinn is still alive or not. Down there are Johanna and Blight, and Beetee and Wiress. They're all nice people, but none of them live in the fear he does. All four of them know their District partner is still alive, Blaine doesn't. He needs to find this out on his own, without those eight eyes on him, awaiting his reaction for when Quinn's face might appear in the sky.

 

Seconds turn into days as he watches Cecelia's face there, he feels a sad pang in s chest, remembers her saying goodbye to her children. It's all so unfair, and then her face disappears and Blaine grabs onto the branch he's holding stronger, but it's not Quinn's face that appears. Not yet, it's Woof this time. The other tribute from Eight, they're both gone. Blaine wonders for a brief moment if this will flare up the rebellion in Eight even more, but then Woof's face vanishes and Blaine's world halts. It's now, the next face will either be Quinn or she is still alive. His entire body aches to turn away, to ignore what is yet to come, so he forces himself to look up. He needs to know, he needs to see with his own two eyes if Quinn will appear up in the sky.

 

When the female face of District 10 visualizes in front of him, Blaine feels muscles he didn't even know he had relaxing. His entire body sags and he almost loses his grip on the branch, but he can breathe again. Quinn is alive, she's still out there somewhere. She might be hurt and exhausted and as dehydrated as him, but she's alive. Blaine doesn't even try to look at who else might have died, does his best to regain his breath and his ability to think clearly, so when the anthem ends he can climb down the tree safely.

 

“She's alive,” Johanna mutters as Blaine's feet touch ground, “she's alive.”

 

“We have to find her,” Blaine says, “what if she's hurt? We have to find her.”

 

“She'll be fine, with that twelve in training she'll have sponsors left and right.”

 

Blaine looks at Johanna confused for a moment, then realizes she's not talking about Quinn. She's talking about Katniss Everdeen. Of course, he thinks, that's why they gave the tributes of District Twelve a twelve in training, Kurt was right, because they needed to be believably receive millions of gifts in this Arena.

 

“Still, we have to find her,” he says, in the hope that Quinn might be with her. He needs to find Quinn, “if we form an alliance with them we can share in all those gifts. I didn't see any water around and I hardly think we're going to find food here.”

 

Johanna smiles at him, almost in a condescending kind of way, but Blaine can't blame her. She knows more, she's been more invested in the plan while he was busy pitying himself over leaving Kurt. He needs to do as she says, needs to do what she thinks is best and if she thinks finding them isn't the best right now, he'll need to accept that.

 

“After a short nap,” she says, “I can't hold Volts up for much longer and Nuts seems to be exhausted from her everlasting laps around us.”

 

Blaine looks between the two tributes from Three, Beetee moaning softly as he shifts on the moss and Wiress fast asleep.

 

“Fine,” Blaine answers, even though his entire body hungers to find Quinn, his conscious knows it's better to stay in a group he can trust, “I'll take first watch,” he says and gestures for Johanna to lay down next to Blight. Johanna eyes him suspiciously for a moment, almost as if she doesn't believe he's in on the rebellion.

 

“You're sure you're up for it?” She asks, to which Blaine nods.

 

“I've trained, remember?” He winks.

 

Reluctantly Johanna lays down, she closes her eyes and almost instantly Blaine can hear her breathing evening out as sleep consumes her. He sits close to her, his weapons ready in his hands in case an enemy might emerge. The Arena is quiet, incredibly hot even after the sun has set and Blaine silently prays Cooper might get someone out there to send them water or any other form of liquid.

 

Nothing appears.

 

Blaine tries his hardest to keep his eyes on his surroundings, be on alert for any tributes he might not be able to trust, but with his allies asleep and the Arena eerily still he can't help but wonder. He wonders where Kurt might be now, if he's okay and whether he's holding up alright. He wishes he could show Kurt how much he misses him, here in this Arena and how much he wishes it was Kurt's body next to him, instead of Johanna's.

 

She shifts a little next to him, presses herself against him and the weight is welcome in a way. He sits a little more relaxed, the warmth of another body close comforting. Not as much as Kurt or Quinn's body, but comforting nonetheless. He sits ready to wake her when needed, but he doesn't have to.

 

He's sat there for a few hours when suddenly a bell starts trolling. Johanna and Wiress are jolted from their slumber and sit upright.

 

“Who's dead?” Johanna asks in reflex, but the sounds that keep gonging through the Arena aren't a cannon. No one died, this bell means something else. Blaine counts twelve bongs, and exchanges a wondering look with Johanna.

 

“The amount of Districts?” He supplies, but she simply shrugs her shoulders. She doesn't know either.

 

Then a flash of light appears right next to them.

 

“Was that...-”

 

“Lighting,” Johanna confirms, when another flash brightens the Arena. They can't hear any thunder, though, so it should be pretty far away and so they soon decide staying where they are is there best option. The lightning is so bright and frequent, it keeps them all awake. Johanna offers to take watch for now, but every time Blaine so much as closes his eyes he's jerked back by the bright light that keeps flashing somewhere in the Arena.

 

It lasts for about an hour, when it stops just as suddenly as it had started. They can hear the rustling of rain getting closer, though, and Blaine is quick to pluck a large leaf from a nearby plant with which he can gather some water. He sees Johanna and Wiress do the same. Johanna rouses Blight, who had slept through the lightning storm.

 

“Grab a leaf,” she says, “it's starting to rain. We can drink.”

 

Blaine feels the first thick drops fall on the bare skin of his neck and immediately knows something is off. This doesn't feel like water, this isn't regular rain. He knows rain, it rains enough in Nine to know rain. He looks up, only to be met with a dark drop of something to fall straight into his eye. He smears it away, looks at his hand and sees the red substance.

 

He smells it, it smells stale and a little rusty.

 

“Blood,” he whispers.

 

“It's blood! Don't drink it!” He screams, seeing Blight raise his cupped leaf to his mouth. He runs over, knocks it out of his hands and gestures for Johanna to gather up Beetee.

 

“Wiress, Blight, follow us,” he says, “we have to run.”

 

The blood rain comes down fast and heavy now, covering them in the stench of it. Blaine tries to breath, grabs Beetee together with Johanna and runs after where Wiress and Blight are going. He tries to open his mouth to ask Johanna what to do, where to go and if she knew about this, but when he does he just gets a mouth full. He spits it out, but doesn't get all of it and he immediately feels sick. He pulls through it, though, keeps dragging Beetee.

 

The sleep did Beetee good, he seems a little steadier on his feet than before and he isn't as heavy, but they're still all thirsty and exhausted. The thick of the rain makes it impossible to run fast, or to see far enough ahead and then all of a sudden they're all knocked backwards, something heavy resting on top of Blaine.

 

He pushes it off him, the cannon echoes just loud enough to hear over the rain and Blaine realizes he's looking straight at a dead Blight.

 

“Blight!” He screams, getting a mouthful of blood yet again. Johanna keeps her mouth firmly shut as she pulls on Blaine's sleeve and urges him to move forward with her.

 

Blaine looks at Blight for another second, closes his eyes gently with his fingers and then moves to help Wiress up. Her eyes are wide, she looks concerned and points to the direction where Blight was leading them. She shakes her head, her lips tightly pressed together, and starts in another direction.

 

Blaine follows her, not sure what she's trying to say but trusting she saw what happened to Blight. He just flew backwards and  _died,_ nothing at all that indicated danger other than the bloody rain. He follows Wiress, Beetee being dragged along by Johanna, until Wiress collapses and gives up. Blaine turns around to look at Johanna and Beetee, both look exhausted and without another thought he sits down next to Wiress and holds his head down as much as he can.

 

They'll have to sit this one out.

 

They all look ridiculous when it ends, soaking wet and red with fresh blood. They need to get to water, they need to get further but right next to where they're sitting a thick fog seems to start. The fog doesn't reach them, though, it seems to move away from them.

It's weird, the first the lightning and then the blood rain, now this obviously artificial fog. It's like the Gamemakers are chasing their tributes with disaster after disaster.

 

“You okay?” Blaine asks Johanna, who sits with her head in her hands, “you knew him best.”

 

“I'm fine,” she says, “what happened to him?”

 

Beetee moans, Wiress keeps staring at the fog with intense eyes.

 

“What?” Johanna bites to Beetee, “did you say something, Volts?”

 

“Force field,” Beetee groans a little louder, before rolling over on his side to be more comfortable. “He ran into a force field.”

 

Johanna closes her eyes and nods, she stays like that for a long time, until she announces they'll have to find water. She gets up to start moving, but Wiress yanks her down again and looks at her intently.

 

“Tick Tock,” she whispers, “Tick Tock.”

 

“Come on,” Johanna urges, “we have to move, we can't stay in the same spot for too long.”

 

Blaine gets up to enforce Johanna's words, holding a hand out to Wiress. If Johanna is going to be strict and angry with her, Blaine should best be nice and gentle with her. “Tick Tock,” Wiress says as she grabs Blaine's hand and pulls herself up, “Tick Tock.”

 

“Yes, Tick Tock,” Blaine agrees with her and starts walking to where to fog seems to have dissapeared. “Tick Tock.”

 

They walk out of the area where the blood rain had stopped about an hour before, the ground turns from soppy and muddy to hard sand under them in an instant, Blaine looks along the tracks and it seems like a perfect line dissects the fog area and the blood rain area.

 

“Something very weird is going on inside this Arena,” he says out loud.

 

“We have to find the others,” Johanna says as though that's an agreement.

 

“Tick tock,” Wiress answers, “Hickery dickery dock, the mouse ran up the clock.”

 

“She's singing now?” Johanna asks exasperated. Blaine nods. He doesn't know the song, but it seems to calm Nuts down so he lets her go with it. Wiress, it seems to calm Wiress down. He ignores the singing, holds her hand firmly and walks a few hundred yards until the thirst and sleep deprivation start to get to him. He hasn't slept at all since he was woken up this morning and if he looks at the position of the moon he thinks it must be around four o'clock in the morning. He has been awake for about twenty hours, if not more.

 

Every bone in his body aches, his lungs feel raw from exhaustion and thick humid air. He hates the way his calves clench up when he crouches down to rest a little, but Johanna drops Beetee heavily to the ground and sits herself down.

 

“Let's rest up,” she says, “we're not going to find any water anytime soon and you need sleep.”

 

He does, he really does need sleep.

 

“Tick tock,” Wiress breaths next to him, “tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.”

 

“Tick tock, Nuts is in shock,” Johanna sighs and Blaine chuckles. “Give her a break,” he tells Johanna, “that bloody rain was quite disconcerting.”

 

“We got out of it okay, didn't we?” Johanna nudges Blaine, but there's no actual force behind her voice. She knows, too, that one doesn't react to the horrors of the Arena the same as the other. If this was Nuts's breaking point, they'll have to pull through and accept she's going to be a burden, just as Beetee is a burden.

 

Blaine wonders what the Capitol thinks, what the unknowing viewers think of their weird little alliance. Are they buying into it, do they suspect something? Is Cooper alright and what does Cooper think of the way he's handling things? He thinks of Kurt, how last time in the Arena he'd been so confused as to what their kiss had meant, that this time he isn't sure if he'll ever see Kurt again.

 

He thinks of how much Kurt has come to mean to him, and as he lies there in this Arena that doesn't seem to cool down, he can't find sleep without Kurt's body pressed close to his own. No matter how tired or worn out his body seems to be, he needs the warm comfort of that crazy, gorgeous silver man against him to find sleep.

 

“Stop thinking so hard and just sleep,” Johanna snaps, “I can practically hear your brain squeak over here with the way you're wearing it out.”

 

Blaine smiles a little at her directness, thinks of the way Quinn would be so much gentler. He almost asks her to sing a lullaby the way Quinn used to when he was little, the way Quinn did last night in their quarters in the training center. Last night, it seems like forever ago. He can't believe they've only been in the Arena for so short. It seems like he's been here forever, even if he hasn't been able to find sleep here yet. He keeps thinking, his mind wandering between the lack of Kurt's body against his, Cooper's kind smile all guilty and worrisome and Quinn's soft voice. Somewhere in between he manages to succumb to slumber.

 

He is roused, what feels seconds later, by Johanna and Wiress standing over him. Wiress seems to still be chiming her tick tock song, and Johanna looks about ready to murder her.

 

“We have to move,” she says.

 

Blaine wipes a strain of drool away from his face, realizing he slept without nightmares and, if the drool is any indication, completely relaxed. His jaw doesn't ache the way it normally does when he wakes up after a night alone and his back only gives a slight indication of discomfort.

 

“You sleep very heavily,” Johanna comments, enforcing his suspicion he'd been out like a light. It's not the best news in an Arena full of danger. “You slept through two cannons,” she says, “and Beetee is getting worse, he's sweating more than before and he keeps babbling nonsense. This one here keeps singing about her mouse and her clock and I'm just about to go insane. You are never allowed to sleep again.”

 

“Sorry,” Blaine mutters as he sits up, “I feel better, I had a rough night yesterday, I guess I needed to catch up a little.”

 

“Yeah, well, if you keep catching up like that you'll be dead in an instant in here,” she spits and as if to prove her point another cannon fires.

 

That makes three cannons since Blaine fell asleep, that combined with the six from the bloodbath and Blight it means there are ten dead now, fourteen still alive.

 

“I say we go down to the beach and see what we can see from there,” Johanna suggests, hauling Beetee up under his arm and walking towards the middle of the Arena. It turns out they're only about fifty meters away from there, they exit the jungle and only in the full sunlight Blaine can see how ridiculous they all look. They're covered in a red-brownish color from the blood rain and with Wiress running around in circles where Blaine and Johanna drop Beetee to the sand, it must all look a little helpless to the audience. Just as Blaine is about to suggest they wash themselves in the salty water, a voice draws all their attention to their left.

 

“Johanna!”

 

Finnick Odair runs towards the foursome, or at least Blaine thinks it's Finnick Odair. He looks terrible, covered in green goo and blisters. Behind him Peeta and Katniss stand unsure. Katniss has an arrow ready to shoot either of them and Blaine doesn't blame her. She knows even less about the plan, if she even knows anything at all. To her they must just be obstacles on her way to another year of victory. They look awkwardly between Finnick and Johanna, who hug tightly on the middle of the beach.

 

“Blaine,” Finnick says, nodding to him politely, then he turns and calls out, “Quinn! We got you something!”

 

“You have...-?” Blaine starts, but his sentence gets caught off as Quinn stumbles out of the woods, as blistered and covered in green goo as the other three of their alliance seem to be.

 

“Blaine!” She yells, and starts to run despite herself. She limps a bit on her left leg and the scabs on her face, arm and side don't seem like they can be very comfortable, but she runs straight into Blaine's arms. He winds his arms around her waist and buries his face in her neck. The green goo stinks horribly, but he doesn't care. She's alive, she's as well as can be and she's here in his arms. He twirls her around as he laughs.

 

“You're okay,” she whispers, keeps repeating it, “you're okay, you're okay, you're okay.”

 

Blaine laughs louder, “I'm okay,” he promises, “you're okay too.”

 

It's not a question, it's not something he wants to know. It's something he sees, her smile is bright and she clings to him strongly enough for Blaine to understand she's still got energy left in her. She is limping, she looks like hell ran over her face and her left side twice, and she's okay.

 

Behind them Blaine hears Johanna explain everything to Finnick and the rest, but he can't even be bothered to care about it. Quinn, stinking and limping in his arms gives him all the strength he needs to survive this moment.

 

“You look like shit,” he jokes when he holds her at arm's length to take a good look at her. She laughs, swats his arm and tells him he does too. Which, he supposes, he does.

 

After everything is explained, Johanna and Katniss have some words and Johanna nearly exposes the plan to the Mockingjay, they all head to the other alliance's camp. Quinn shows Blaine a spile hacked into a tree, which gives a steady flow of water. He holds his head under it and laps the warm liquid eagerly.

 

“Calm down there, bloodshot,” Johanna says as she pushes him aside playfully, “you were hydrated enough to be able to _drool_ in your sleep, give someone else a chance.”

 

Blaine laughs, though she is right. He wonders how it's possible that he was. Perhaps the blood that he involuntarily swallowed hydrated him a little still, or maybe being covered in blood prevented sweating. Still, the water that is coursing through his body now immediately makes him gain strength and the bread that Finnick offers him tastes like heaven.

 

He retreats into the water, where Katniss has already started washing Wiress. Beetee lies on the sand naked, clean and with moss pressed tightly to the wound that was bleeding severely minutes ago. Blaine undresses, tries to ignore the fact that the entirety of Panem will see him naked when he does. He just has to, has to clean his jumpsuit and has to clean all this blood off his body.

 

It's ironic, how he thought he'd kill and be killed in this Arena and yet the blood he's washing isn't any victim's, neither his own. He closes his eyes as he dips his head under water, ignores the lingering wonder who's blood exactly it is that he's washing out of his hair. He rinses it as thoroughly as he can, and only comes up for air when he absolutely has to.

 

When he and his jumpsuit are clean, Blaine joins Quinn on the beach. They sit a little away from where Johanna is sleeping, with Peeta and Katniss as her guard. Wiress lies in front of Katniss. She seems to like her, which Blaine appreciates. With Johanna being so distant and businesslike it had been his task to make the District 3 tributes feel comfortable. It had been exhausting. Maybe that's why he slept so soundly.

 

Quinn and he sit in silence, until the sun is bright overhead and Blaine wonders when the next cannon will sound. He wonders if they're safe on the beach, if the careers will come and hunt them and if he will actually have to sacrifice his life for their Mockingjay when they do. They're allies now, and he hasn't even spoken a single word to her. Their group is large, eight people is a lot and the audience must wonder why on earth they aren't just killing each other. Or why at least they don't kill Beetee and Wiress. To the audience, as well as Peeta and Katniss, they're all just obstacles in each other's way to victory.

 

Lightning strikes the same tree as it did the night before.

 

Katniss's face grows confused as Blaine looks at her, she looks down at Wiress and something seems to click inside her mind.

 

“The Arena's a clock,” she says.

 

“That's why,” Blaine mutters.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“A clock, the Arena is a clock!” Katniss explains. Wiress was right. Tick tock, the Arena is a clock. The lightning has died down and Blaine can see the blood rain now. Just the thought of it makes him nauseous again. It makes sense, it makes total sense. Every spoke represents an hour, every area has its disaster. This is why, Blaine thinks, this is why they need Wiress and Beetee around. They're smart about things like these in ways the others aren't. Or maybe they were prepared for this, maybe this was their part of knowledge. Though Blaine doubts it, he's still pretty sure the wire that Beetee seems so fond of has something to do with their part in it.

 

This is how we can figure out when the rescue mission is, Blaine thinks, even without clocks and watches they'll know exactly what time it is. He can't say this out loud, of course, it would give everything away.

 

Katniss rouses everyone and Blaine helps her, she's right, they need to move. After the blood rain comes the fog, then comes hour three and from what they told about attacks by monkeys, he doesn't want to be here for that. They need to get away. Everyone gathers up, listening to Katniss fairly easily and they move to the Cornucopia with their odd group of eight.

 

Johanna and Katniss argue, again, and Blaine can see they dislike each other. He tries to give Johanna a warning look, sees Finnick do the same to Katniss. It's easy, for her, to kill Johanna when she feels she needs to. She doesn't know about Johanna's plan to rescue her and only her. Beetee seems to have come to life again after the other's took care of him and he praises Wiress for being more than smart, for being sensitive. He says she can sense danger before anyone else can, like a bird in a coal mine.

 

When they get to the Cornucopia everyone mostly goes their own way, Wiress cleaning off the wire and Peeta creating a map of the Arena in the sand. Blaine and Quinn sit a little away from everyone, staring out over nothing and holding hands. They're kind of detached from it all, and maybe they shouldn't be but they can't help themselves. They're not very deeply into the plan, all they know is to make sure Katniss lives and Peeta lives so she won't turn on them. They are the only ones here who still form a little family and it's nice to be in the Arena with a loved one. At least for as long as they're able to ignore the fact that they can die in an instance.

 

A painful fact they're reminded of when Wiress's song goes silent and they turn around to find her throat sliced, Gloss from District 1 smirks as he lets her slide into the water. An arrow flies into his temple and seconds later his sister, Cashmere, gets Johanna's axe to her chest. Blaine doesn't even flinch when he sees it happen. He had almost forgotten about the other tributes, as nice and happy as their little eight man alliance had been. Seven now, with Wiress gone. Three people dead in the span of ten seconds.

 

Brutus and Enobaria, the tributes from District 2, take on Finnick and Peeta. They duck behind the Cornucopia and before Quinn and Blaine can even try to get up to help, something shifts. The two careers are halfway down a spoke of land when the entire island with Cornucopia starts spinning. It spins and spins until it doesn't anymore.

 

As Blaine tries to regain his posture, tries to get the dizzy feeling from spinning out of his body, he sees Katniss jump into the water and swim towards one of the bodies. It's Wiress. She still has the wire, and Katniss saves it. Blaine thinks he can see why she's the Mockingjay, why she's the face of the rebellion. She keeps doing nice things for people, she keeps doing things she shouldn't. Like now, acknowledging a body that's already being picked up by a hovercraft. He can see why people cling to her.

 

When she gets back they all agree they need to get away from the Cornucopia. There is some discussion about where to, none of them knowing where they are after the spin. They decide on a spoke and head down to the jungle. It must be monkey hour and they find an area that's monkey free. After some discussion they get Peeta to draw another map, and Katniss is going to tap a tree. It's difficult to have them both protected at all times, Blaine thinks, they must crave a little privacy as much as he and Quinn did. If not more. Yet they manage, Blaine and Finnick join Katniss in the hunt for water.

 

Finnnick digs a hole in a tree, asks Katniss for the spile, when she goes rigid.

 

“Prim!” She yells and starts running. Blaine and Finnick exchange a worried look, before running after her.

 

“Isn't that...-?” Finnick starts.

 

“Her sister,” Blaine provides, he knows. He's seen her volunteer for her sister, he's wondered what he would do was he in her place. He knows he would have if Cooper's name was drawn this year. Blaine knows how hard Katniss Everdeen will fight to protect her sister.

 

He runs after her when he turns around abruptly, the scream is agonizing, shrill and shakes him to his very core. He's off towards it, needs to get to it. It keeps on going, and Blaine needs to find him.

 

“Kurt!” He yells, reaching for nothing but a sound. Kurt's screams are torture, both to listen to and to decipher. It's obvious he's in pain and there is something very wrong. He keeps running and running, the voice only distancing. He doesn't stop reaching for Kurt until he trips over something.

 

He looks down and sees Katniss sitting there, a dead bird at her feet.

 

“Jabberjay,” she says, “they're jabberjays.”

 

Of course they are, the birds that can mimic any sound they hear and repeat them back when needed. Kurt isn't here, Kurt isn't in the Arena. Blaine is about to sit down next to Katniss when another voice starts, and he hears Finnick shout Annie's name in the distance. These birds will get them at your very core, screeching those voices that will get the deepest parts of them. Blaine and Katniss get up, run towards Finnick. He stands still and Katniss tries to explain to him it's only a jabberjay, but he refuses to listen to her reason.

 

“How did they get those sounds?” He asks, and Blaine feels sick thinking about what he means. They repeat sounds, they hear sounds and repeat them. They must have heard Kurt scream like that somewhere. In agony, in pain, sheer panic. Another jabberjay starts screeching in Kurt's voice and then Cooper's voice is joined as well.

 

What are they doing to them, why aren't they safe? They're supposed to be safe. He's the one in the Arena, they shouldn't be tortured like this.

 

“Stop!” Blaine yells, covering his ears with his hands, “stop, stop, stop!”

 

But they don't stop, they only grow louder. Katniss and Finnick are off again, but Blaine is tied to the spot. It goes on for what feels like hours, even though it can't be. Voices keep adding, first Kurt's, then Coopers and later his mother and father as well as Halina. Only Quinn's voice is missing. Because she's still here, but Blaine doesn't even know if he believes that anymore.

 

Everything is a haze and all he sees, all he imagines is all his loved ones in a room together. Tortured by the Capitol. He stays tied to the spot, his hand over his ears, but it conceals nothing. He hears Cooper cry out and he hears his mother's piercing shrill. It's nothing new, and yet it is more painful than ever. He stays there and he stays there, staring at nothing and trying to block out every sound, until they're long gone and Quinn's soft hands pry his from his ears.

 

“It's okay,” she whispers as she gathers him in her arms, “it's okay, you're okay.”

 

“They had Cooper,” Blaine says, trembling in Quinn's strong hold, “they had Cooper and Kurt and mom and dad. They aren't okay.”

 

Quinn shushes him, tries to explain something that Beetee said about it being artificial, made in the Capitol, but Blaine doesn't believe it.

 

“They would never hurt Cooper,” she says, “he's our mentor. They need to interview him, he would never be tortured.”

 

“But those screams.”

 

“I know,” Quinn says and kisses his forehead gently, the way she used to when he had nightmares at a young age, “I know.”

 

She takes him to the others where they are resting, this area now safe for another eleven hours, and she gathers him in his arms.

 

“Sleep,” she says as he crawls close to her. Maybe it looks weak, maybe it makes him look like the weakest one out of their group, but he doesn't care. He doesn't believe anyone is okay and he can't live without being close to Quinn now. If it's true, if everyone he loves is being tortured for the benefit of a few jabberjays in the Arena, he needs to keep Quinn close. The only one he loves who he knows is okay. Even with her scabs and her limp and all the trauma she has been carrying since the first time she was a victor, she's okay.

 

She hums her lullaby softly in his ear, so softly that none of the others can hear it, and he dozes off to a wordless song. He wakes lightly when a cannon fires, and then when the lightning indicates midnight, but other than that he sleeps. And he sleeps, and he sleeps.

 

He sleeps until Quinn wakes him, there's food, there's water and there's a plan. Beetee explains something about wire and executing the others and when he suggests a midnight strike Blaine knows this is it. Whatever the plan was, this is it. He has to listen to Beetee. He has no idea what will actually happen, what the plan eventually will entail but he'll listen to it. Only the two tributes from District 2, Chaff from Eleven and the seven in their alliance are still alive. It is time to get out of here.

 

So they all head to the lightning tree, Katniss leading as she for some reason can hear the forcefield with her artificial ear, and there they let Beetee do his thing. They all enjoy the day, as much as they can knowing they're about to defy the Capitol in the greatest way possible. Seven victors working together to escape the Arena, what will the Capitol do in response?

 

Blaine doesn't really process much of the day, images of Kurt lying strapped to a table while someone tortures him keep playing in his mind. Quinn keeps stroking Blaine's hair, pulling him close towards her and humming her lullaby. It's not comforting, not anymore. Not even when she starts singing lyrics. None of the words make sense anymore. She sings about a girl, pure and simple, about innoncence. None of those words belong in this Arena. Her voice is angelic as ever, but she's out of breath and it's costing her energy she is going to need tonight. Blaine only feels guilt. It's his fault Kurt was being tortured, it's his fault Cooper isn't safe inside this Arena where they're about to be saved and head to District 13. It's his fault Quinn is wasting energy on comforting him when she should strengthen up for a heavy evening.

 

He basks in guilt and frustration until Finnick urges him to eat. He eats some of the District 3 bread and then he retreats back into himself again, not feeling up to talking to anyone until he absolutely has to.

 

When it's time to head to the tree he goes silently, following the rest obligingly. When they get to the tree Beetee is absolutely inclined to have Katniss and Peeta split up, so Blaine offers to take care of Peeta for Katniss. She throws him a grateful smile.

 

“Don't worry,” she tells Peeta, “I'll see you at midnight.”

 

And with that Katniss and Johanna are off, the wire trailing behind them as they take it to the beach where it's supposed to go into the water and electrocute half the Arena to kill the remaining tributes. It is silent for a while, nothing happens and everyone is too afraid to breathe. Until the strained wire drops to the ground and Beetee sighs.

 

“Something is wrong,” he says. They can't hear anything, nothing in the jungle moves and the suspense is the worst Blaine has ever felt. Everything is still for another five seconds, until Peeta decides to run for Katniss. Blaine doesn't think twice and runs after him. Whatever is going on, he needs to stop Peeta from getting to her. It was so important for Beetee that they split up, he can't have them reunite now.

 

Blaine can see Brutus running towards Peeta and he sees Chaff jumping from somewhere out of the blue. Brutus's spear ends up in Chaff's gut, the cannon fires almost as soon as the man falls to the ground. Blaine jumps forward, reaching for one of the throw knives he has secured in his belt, when something sharp hits him in the head. A jolt of pain shoots through his body and he falls down almost in slow motion. The entire world around him is a blur, but he can still see Enobaria running away from him and towards the lightning tree. He turns his head to look at Peeta, who drives one of the arrows he was carrying for Katniss into Brutus's stomach repeatedly.

 

The cannon fires and Blaine's world goes black.

 

Black turns into a bright cacophony of lights what seems like seconds after, or maybe it's been months. Blaine has lost all sense of time and space. He's on the ground, it's warm and above him the sky is blinding. It sounds like bombs are exploding, the entire world is shaking and to his right Blaine finds Peeta right next to him. Johanna and Quinn are not far away from them.

 

When did they get there, and what happened to Johanna's face? She's covered in blood. The sky is still on fire when a loud, humming noise starts growing closer.

 

A large gripper picks up Blaine and Peeta at the same time, and he sees another gripper envelop Quinn and Johanna’s bodies. They’re lifted into the hovercraft slowly. Everything around him happens in a blur. He’s pressed close to Peeta, who, though unconscious, seems to still be breathing. They hauled inside the hovercraft by a team of masked people, Peeta taken to one side and Blaine the other. He’s wheeled into a large, white room and feels a syringe piercing through the skin in his arm. His vision, already blurry, starts to fade even more. A face hangs over him and tells him to relax.

 

“Calm down, Mister Anderson, just go to sleep.”

 

The face is covered by a mask, hair tucked neatly under a cap. The fringe is still visible, as well as the eyebrows, and they’re both bright pink. There are stars tattooed on the right side of the girl’s face and her eyelashes are unnaturally long. It’s then, just before he slips into unconsciousness that Blaine realizes.  _I'm not on my way to Thirteen._


	9. Chapter 8

There are a few things Blaine knows. 

Only Katniss, Beetee and Finnick were rescued. He and Quinn are in a stinking cellar with all the other tributes that lived. Except for Peeta. Blaine knows Peeta isn't in Thirteen. Peeta was in the gripper with him, Peeta is somewhere in the Capitol.

Blaine knows he's somewhere underground and there are rats. The first night, or day, or the first time he fell asleep anyway, he was woken up by rats walking on his face. He's used to the rats now, they don't wake him up when they walk on his face anymore. Unless they pee. If the rats pee on his face he wakes up.

He knows Quinn is very ill, but there is nothing he can do about it. He knows they get meals whenever someone thinks to feed them and he knows Quinn is throwing most of it up. Something is very wrong with Quinn. The last thing Blaine knows is they're running out of time.

There is one thing Blaine doesn't know. He doesn't know why the Capitol won't just kill them. Every day is a struggle and every day is hell. If he had the chance, if he had anything he could do it with, he would probably end everything himself. 

He doesn't want to say it out loud, not to Quinn and not to Johanna, but this is worse than any Arena he has ever witnessed. It's constantly dark, the only light they receive a tiny stripe from the door frame. They've been here for a few days now, or maybe a couple of years, and Blaine can already feel the drag of not seeing daylight again. It's like when he locked himself in the piano room in his house but twenty times worse. Or seventy times. He doesn't really have a sense of anything anymore. 

Blaine hasn't been taken away yet the way Johanna has. She came back drenched and delirious, refusing to talk. First she refused to talk period, now she only refuses to talk about what had happened to her. Whatever it is, though, Blaine prays to everything he can think of that they will take him first. He needs to know what is going to happen so he can prepare Quinn. Enobaria is in the room with them as well. The dungeon, or cellar, or whatever it is, is crowded with the four of them. It smells, it stinks and when Johanna had come back completely soaked Blaine was hopeful for a moment. He thought for just a little while that maybe they had let her take a shower, or a bath. Nothing was less true, of course, they had somehow tortured her with water. Blaine assumes they might have tried to drown her. But they didn't kill her. Why won't they just kill them?

Quinn is currently resting, her head in Blaine's lap. He tries to keep the rats and the mice away from her but he fails. At least they're not walking on her face, he can keep her face safe. She looks so peaceful when she sleeps, so angelic. He strokes her hair softly, tries to sing her a song. He starts the sounds in his throat, but his mouth won't form the words. He is tired, he is angry and he's desperate. He doesn't want to close his eyes, he needs to look at Quinn.

As long as he looks at Quinn he doesn't have to think about anything else. Just about how her cheekbones are more defined than ever. He doesn't look at her ribcage or her hipbones, when he looks at those he understand why her cheekbones are more defined. It's because she's lost a lot of weight since they've been thrown into this place. When she's awake he likes to look into her eyes, even if they're not the same eyes he always knew anymore. They're not warm, or motherly, not as caring as before. When she speaks her voice is jagged, and hollow. She's emotional, there hasn't been a moment since they woke up in this place that she didn't touch Blaine. There is always a hand on his knee, a head on his shoulder or a finger linked with his. He revels in the touch, mostly, but there are times he wishes it wasn't there.

He wishes it wasn't necessary. He is scared, still, of what is yet to come. Enobaria had been taken away a little while ago, but she had come back practically unharmed. Blaine assumes it helps her case that she was trying to kill them up until the escaping moment. He's still waiting, waiting for the time they come to him. He knows he won't be as lucky as Enobaria. He wonders, too, why she is even in here with them. It's obvious she wasn't in on the plan and that she is on the Capitol's side. She is a career victor, close with the Capitol, why wouldn't she be?

She doesn't talk to them, at all, mostly glares at them angrily when they catch her gaze. Right now Blaine does everything he can to avoid her gaze, since she's crouched over in the corner they've dubbed their toilet area. It's gross, but it has to happen and so he's glad they're all decent enough to keep to that corner. 

Quinn stirs in his lap as soon as there is sound in the room, and Blaine wishes she'd sleep as fast as he does. He doesn't even wake up from animals walking on his face anymore and Quinn wakes up from the faint sound of a pee stream. She blinks her eyes open and for a short while they're hopeful. Blaine knows the feeling, has it every time he wakes up. That fleeting moment of wishing, hoping, sometimes even truly believing, it was all a terrible nightmare. 

His nightmares aren't even as bad as what he's living in right now anymore. It's not the nakedness, or the three naked women around him. He got used to all of their naked bodies about twenty minutes after they were thrown here. No, that's not it. It's the fear of the unknown. It's not knowing what's going to happen to any of them, the everlasting fear of dying of hunger in this shit hole. These, he thinks, are the true hunger games. The way his stomach clenches at the thought of food, the way it hurls when he imagines even broth, he has never been this hungry in his life before. Not when they were poor, before Cooper won the Games, not when he was first in the Arena and especially not the last Arena. Because they gave him food there, they had sponsors in Plutarch Heavensbee.

And that's where it goes truly wrong, when he starts thinking about Plutarch, and how he has to be eating his belly round in Thirteen. How the other three must be having enough food to keep their stomachs happy. They were supposed to save him, that was the deal. He was to either die or be saved. This was never an option. He wasn't supposed to be here. He is angry.

He closes his eyes and tries to hold his breath, but he can't. Every time he starts thinking about Plutarch and where he might be, he sees Burt Hummel too. Burt, the friendly man who had clapped Blaine on his shoulder and told him how happy he made his son. And then, when he sees that imagine again, he thinks about Kurt. He sees Kurt's beautiful face and his tattoo next to his eye. That ridiculous tattoo that he had seen the first time he met him, that had strangely settled him. It doesn't settle him now. Nothing about Kurt can settle him.

He wishes he could smell him, hold him, but when he sees Kurt's face in front of him he sees  
a jabberjay as well. And he hears it, as if he's back in the forest. He hears Kurt's voice scream and shout in agony. It's like it's locked tight in his ears and trying to escape. He hears his name, Kurt screams his name when he closes his eyes.

“Blaine,” it screams, “Help me, Blaine!”

He can't, he cannot help Kurt. He cannot get to him no matter how hard he tries. He is tied to the spot, in that forest, he stands there with his hands covering his ears and he screams himself. Tries to drown out the sound of Kurt in agony by his own voice. He yells and screams and thrashes, and does so until either Johanna slaps him across the face or Quinn gently pries his hands off his ears and takes him in her arms. Enobaria doesn't do anything, she just sits there and ignores the three of them. This time it's Quinn, she still has her head in Blaine's lap but her hands are holding his tightly as she smiles up at him.

“He's getting worse,” Johanna bites.

“He can't help it,” Quinn quips.

“He is right here,” Blaine snaps at both of them. There is a look between them, they collectively sigh and leave it at that. He understands it's getting on the other's nerves, he knows it can't be easy being cramped in a room with someone who starts screaming at the top of his lungs every ten minutes but the others have their annoying quips as well. As three people in the same boat, they simply need to accept this from each other. 

Quinn sits up, Blaine can hear her spine crack several times as she does. He can't help but notice how much skin on bones he sees. She's losing the last bits of fat she had on her and when she coughs loud and aggressively he wonders how such a sound can even be produced in a tiny body like hers. She wipes her hand on her upper leg, Blaine sees the blood she smears there and he softly pulls her towards him, resting her head against his shoulder. It doesn't even feel weird anymore, being pressed naked against Quinn. It used to be only Kurt who he'd ever felt naked, but everything in here is different. 

Here he doesn't feel naked, not anymore, the only disadvantage it gives is how he is unable to ignore the way Quinn is deteriorating. The coughs, the way her body protests when she moves in the slightest. She's sleeping a lot more than the rest of them and her voice is so extremely weak. She is losing weight, yet her stomach is swelling. Blaine has seen it in his district, in the villages, when the children don't have enough to eat. He's seen their swollen bellies and he's heard them cough, just the memories hurt his heart. It's not even just that, she is just that tad more emotional than either Blaine or Johanna. He wishes he knew what was wrong with her, and he wishes he didn't know anything was wrong at all. It's terrifying and comforting to have her around at the same time.

When he looks at her, he knows where she is and he knows she's alive. He knows she's close to dying, too, but she's alive. He doesn't know that about Cooper, his parents, or Kurt. He doesn't know any of it. He keeps hearing their voices and he doesn't buy Johanna and Quinn's story about Beetee. He doesn't believe those sounds were computer generated, made to sound like they were being tortured. He's here, the Capitol got to him so why would any of the others be safe. Yes, Katniss, of course she is safe. He knows that much from what Johanna had told them about her interrogation. He's still waiting for his.

Quinn coughs again, hard and unapologetic. She's too late to get her hand to her mouth, spraying Blaine's shoulder and chest in slime and blood. Blaine can only hope what she has isn't contagious. Though it probably isn't, they all would have had it by now if it was. The coughs seem louder, still, as if her lungs are trying to fight their way out of her body.

“She's getting worse,” Blaine says, concerned.

“She can't help it,” Johanna quips.

“She is right here,” Quinn squeezes out between coughs, and for the first time since he's been thrown into this dungeon, or maybe for the first time since his name was reaped, he laughs. He sees a smile tug at Johanna's mouth as well, and soon they're all three doubled over in hysterics. Quinn keeps coughing in between, but she laughs and it's a glorious sound. It almost sounds better than her lullaby. 

They keep laughing, loudly and broken until the door opens and a tray of food gets shoved inside. It's strange, how suddenly the entire atmosphere can change. It's as if they don't even remember what they were laughing about in the first place anymore and everything is back to water and bread and being naked with four people in a dark dungeon.

But then the door opens again, someone is thrown inside, and suddenly it's five naked people in a dark dungeon.

“Annie?” Johanna whispers. The girl, looking lost and confused, snaps her head up to Johanna and smiles widely, genuinely. It's almost as if she really is happy to be here.

“Where's Finnick?” she asks.

“He's...-” Johanna starts, but falters. Blaine has never seen her struggle like this before, she takes a deep breath and move towards where Annie is still on the floor, “we don't know where he is.”

Annie looks sad for a second, then notices the tray of food and water on the ground next to her and grabs for it. Johanna is just to her in time to slap her hand out of the way. She pulls the food close to her, Annie's eyes go wide but Quinn and Blaine sit tight. It's been the way their dynamic has worked since before they were even here, Johanna is their leader. It was that way in the Arena, Johanna knowing more about the plans than they did, in here it's still the same. Johanna takes the tough decisions, Johanna divides the food. Even Enobaria stopped fighting her after she figured out Johanna wouldn't let her starve to death.

“We're trapped in a creepy place with rats,” she had said, “these aren't the hunger games, I'm not letting anyone starve to death.”

And she hadn't. And she won't.

She examines Annie closely, makes her do a few coughs as if she is a real doctor and she asks Annie how she feels, physically. She seems fine. She gets a piece of bread.

Blaine gets a slightly larger piece, he needs it harder because it's been longer for him since he's eaten properly. Enobaria gets a piece as big as Blaine's and so does Johanna. Quinn only gets a tiny piece. Blaine gives Johanna a pointed look.

“She needs strength,” he says and utters with as much force as he can. Johanna ignores him as she takes a few large gulps of the bottle of water. She turns to Blaine then, after she's swallowed it all.

“She needs fluid,” Johanna answers, “her body can't handle digesting too much calories right now. I know she looks like she needs them, but she needs fluids first, I promise.”

“How do you know all this?” Blaine asks, taking the bottle from Johanna. She shrugs, tells Blaine to take three large gulps and then Annie and Enobaria the same. Maybe it's common sense, or something Johanna picked up from Katniss, who seemed to be a perfect healer in the Arena, maybe she's keeping something from them. Whatever it is, Blaine supposes she's right. It's why his mother always said to keep drinking when he had the flu, most likely.

If only what Quinn has was just a flu. She's coughing blood, and as little as Blaine knows about health and healing, he knows coughing blood is never a positive sign.

With Annie around, Johanna does get off their back a little. She, as Finnick's friend, makes it her life's worth to keep Annie as sane as is possible, and they find a corner of the room to sit in. Blaine and Quinn find another. Enobaria occupies the third empty corner, the last one meant for their toilet needs. 

Occasionally they hear other prisoners, some of them scream and others talk in their sleep. It's dark down here, so there's no sleeping pattern. They have no idea when it's day or night and so everyone sleeps at random times. Blaine heard a few people screaming for their children, he heard one guy crying for his girl and the person closest to them keeps begging for them to let him know if his mother is still alive. 

Every voice, every scream and cry they hear carries through Blaine's body like a wildfire. The agony under his skin gets itchier and bolder every time someone so much as raises their voice around them, but he keeps still as much as possible. Quinn is plastered to his side nearly permanently now and he needs to hold it together for her. The bold pain that crawls up his body, into his throat when he hears those screams that aren't the voices he needs to hear, it dies in his mouth as he wants to call out for Kurt. 

Quinn is rigid at his side, he knows she feels it too, knows she longs for Cooper the way he does for Kurt. He wants to hear Cooper as well, he needs to hear his mother and father but at the forefront of his mind it is always Kurt that haunts him. They try talking to Annie for a while, since she was taken prisoner later than them, but Annie turns out to be useless on that front. Every time Blaine tries to ask her where she was before, how they got her voice to be mimicked by those jabberjays, all she does is look Blaine in the eye and ask him where Finnick is. He understands, he thinks, he needs Kurt as much as she needs Finnick. 

He gives up asking Annie for anything eventually, settles for holding whichever part of Quinn's body he can reach and makes soothing her sick and tired body his prime reason for existing. He understands it might just be days, hours even, that he has her with him until she's gone and he needs those moments to be as comfortable for her as he can possibly make them. So even though the words of her song do their very best to get stuck in his throat, he forces them out. They're croaked and raspy, filled with tears, regret and emptiness, he means them nonetheless. Pureness, innocence, they seemed like words that wouldn't be true for any Arena survivor, but they feel true now. They feel true to the girl in his arms. Fragile and broken at the same time, yet stronger than anyone he's ever met. 

Her breath wheezes and her coughs are filled with blood and slime, but she's strong and she's brave. She is the toughest woman there could ever be, until she falls asleep. When she's asleep she is angelic and soft, sweet and terrorized by bad and angry dreams. She talks in her sleep, most of the time she kicks and screams as best as her body allows her, so Blaine is particularly angry when the Capitol people choose one of her more peaceful unconscious moments to barge in and separate them with rough hands.

He gets a little more hopeful when he's taken to what looks like a hospital wing at first, begs for Quinn to be treated the same. He gets some fluids inside his system, they offer him some broth which he reluctantly eats. He gets a clean scrub, even. It's only when he gets hauled into a room full of cameras that he understands why they were suddenly treated so well.

“Where's Quinn?” He asks the guy who escorted him down, but gets ignored. He can't find Quinn anywhere as he looks around and all the hope he'd felt at entering the hospital wing leaves him quicker than he thinks is healthy. He's sure she's dead, they must have realized she was beyond use for the weird games they must be playing with the rebels and killed her. He got her killed, he should have protected her better.

She doesn't show up, Blaine's hope is absolutely killed and then Caesar walks in animatedly chatting with Peeta Mellark.

“What the..-”

“You're just here for back up,” a voice to Blaine's right says and he almost wants to weep of joy when Isabelle puts her hand on Blaine's upper arm. Even if it's her strange, impossibly white face with all its orange lips and lashes, it's a familiar face. It's all Blaine needs for now. He reaches for her, and she opens her arms. She's unstable on the spokes that make out the soles of her shoes, but she catches him easily and holds him tight. A few people around them give them strange looks, but neither of them care.

“You're just here for back up,” she repeats in his ear, “Peeta is a bit unstable, if he turns out not to be up for the interview they're getting you in. Do everything they say and pretend to be on their side. Don't give them a reason to kill you, it's not worth it. Not here.”

“Isn't it?” He asks, pulling back and looking at her. She looks old, older than she did before, and more artificial at the same time. Her eyes are sunken and tired and her hair is a color Kurt would never approve of. She looks lost, alone and Blaine needs to know what she knows.

“I don't know where they are,” she says, “I haven't seen them since before the night of the interviews. I don't know, I'm sorry.”

Blaine nods, he knows she's telling the truth. 

“Just... don't give them a reason to kill you,” she says again and he continues to nod, he won't. And he doesn't have to in the end, they don't need him. Peeta performs perfectly to their standards, he asks Katniss and the rebels to stop fighting and he looks like a perfect Capitol lap dog. Blaine wants to yell and scream, wants to cry with how much it apparently wasn't worth it to save the Mockingjay and her lover, if this is how they decide to repay them. 

He gets whisked away from the room before he can say another word to Isabelle or Peeta, and when he gets thrown back into the dark underground room, it turns out to be a different one. He's confused at first, then angry again at how easily Peeta seems to have crossed to Snow's side and that feeling gets washed away with relief as soon as he sees Quinn sitting in a corner.

She, too, looks cleaner and more well fed than before. The room they are in now is smaller, Johanna, Annie and Enobaria are nowhere to be found and in their place is a blond woman, who seems awfully comfortable, resting in Quinn's lap. Blaine recognizes her in an instant, the avox who was supposed to serve them during their time before the Quarter Quell. The avox who had hardly been around until she'd woken Blaine that fatal morning of entering hell.

“Quinn?” Blaine asks after the guards have closed the door and their footsteps are far enough down the hall for Blaine to know they aren't eavesdropping, “what is going on?”

“I'm not sure,” she answers honestly and cards her fingers through the avox's hair. Blaine sees tears welling in her eyes, sees the way she swallows heavily before she opens her mouth to continue, “I have no idea what is going on, but I do want to introduce you to someone.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow in question, positions himself next to Quinn and takes her free hand in his.

“Holly,” she whispers, “Holly, wake up, there's someone I want you to meet.”

“Holly...-” Blaine drawls, the name rolling off his tongue easily. It sounds familiar, like he's heard it before, but at the same time it feels wrong saying it. Holly stirs slowly to consciousness in Quinn's lap and turns around to face Blaine. She smiles up at him, and it's a familiar smile. Familiar, but not memorable. He doesn't necessarily remember the smile, but he recognizes it. It's about a millisecond before Quinn says it that Blaine knows, “Blaine, this is my sister Holly.”

“Your...-” Blaine stumbles, “your sister?”

Holly nods as she scrambles up, giving Blaine a sad smile. It's a smile he knows better than any other smile, he's seen Quinn use it so many times since the Quarter Quell was announced. Holly reaches her hand out to Blaine and tucks a stray curl behind his ear. He wonders how long they've been here, his hair so long now his curls can be tucked there. She does it again with another curl, which she first lets wrap around her index finger and Blaine gets hit with another sudden realization.

The force of it so hard he gets up and stumbles backwards. “You're...- you're supposed to be … you're dead,” he rasps, “you're supposed to be dead.”

“My parents were killed because I refused to cooperate with the Captiol, yes, but Holly is here for a different reason,” Quinn starts, but Blaine already knows.

“I saw you being dragged off. I saw you being beaten up by peacekeepers and dragged off. You are supposed to be dead.”

“Blaine...-”

“No,” Blaine interrupts Quinn, “she was dead. They took her from that classroom while she was reading us The Little Mermaid and she is dead.”

“Obviously she isn't.”

“And she's your sister?” 

“Yes.”

“All those years she was a teacher at the school I attended, she was kidnapped and beaten up in front of me and you never cared to tell me she was family?”

Quinn tries to get up, but her body betrays her. Even if she looks clean and well fed, she's still fragile and weak and so Holly holds her down. She looks at Blaine apologetically and as if she wants to say something, but she can't. She doesn't have a tongue, she can't speak and as Quinn starts coughing Blaine is nearly grateful for her inability to speak in that moment as well. After Quinn has coughed up a little more blood, and is catching her breath, Blaine speaks up.

“I understand you had your reasons to lie to me like that,” he snarls, “and I need you to respect my privacy right now. I'm going to sit in that corner over there and I'll talk to you when I talk to you.”

He's being completely unreasonable, most likely, but he just can't deal with something as huge as a family member he didn't know the existence of until now. He's still got Peeta wrapped in his head, the way he'd seemed so off and in tune with Caesar at the same time, the way he seemed to despise Katniss now. Threatened her with death, even. He had wanted to talk to Quinn about that, not about a long lost reunion with a sister. The way they sit so close together, the way they're huddled up as if they're in a stupid secret mission and he has no idea where his own brother is. He can't stand it. Cooper, he wants Cooper when he sees Quinn like that. And yet, when he thinks of Cooper he can't not think of Quinn and he sees them curled up close at the breakfast table, trying their damned hard to say goodbye.

And when he thinks of people so close together he thinks of Kurt. Kurt's smell, the way his hair falls flat over his forehead, and how Blaine can only see it if he wakes before Kurt. He thinks of Kurt's naked body pressed against his own and he thinks of the strong arms that could pick him up and scoop him in his arms effortlessly right now. Everything around him turns into Kurt and then into birds, stupid birds screeching with Kurt's voice. And Isabelle hadn't know where he was and Quinn doesn't know where he is and he can't ask Cooper.

“I miss Cooper,” Blaine starts after fifteen minutes. It might have been fifteen minutes, it might have been two days. He just doesn't know anymore.

“So do I,” Quinn answers.

“No, you don't miss him like I do. You have your sister here. I'm sorry I yelled earlier, I think I was just jealous.”

“I know,” Quinn says, “I know that. Please, just, listen to me?”

And so he does. Quinn tells the story, Holly nods and makes hand gestures to enforce it. She is older than Quinn, by ten years, married to a man named Jem Holiday and widowed by the age of 22. She and Quinn have same age difference as he and Cooper. She had been a teacher before Quinn had entered the Arena, they had always lived in Center Village because their father owned a shop. She taught her students about the universe and everything that was wrong with Panem every year, until one year Quinn's name was reaped and she was sent into the Arena. Though no one approached her or said anything, they all knew it wasn't a coincidence. This was a warning, miss Holiday was not supposed to teach her students about these things anymore. Then Quinn won. 

Blaine had never heard the story before, of the desert Arena where Quinn had charmed her way into a boy's heart and he practically made all the kills for her. 

“Katniss and Peeta weren't the first star-crossed lovers,” she says, “only I always made it clear to at least the audience I did it for survival, so they never felt an uproar for that. And we didn't both survive, of course.”

She tells Blaine about the way she would drink his water while she was on watch and he asleep, that he would believe her when she said she didn't drink it with an innocent smile. He did anything for her, would give her more food than he ate himself and she tells him how she eventually left him hanging in a tree in a net when there were only three tributes left. 

“I waited until the other boy killed him with his spear, then I attacked from behind and slit the last boy's throat.”

“Wow,” Blaine says, “so you and I both only killed one person?”

“Well,” Quinn answers, “if you count all the tributes I made him kill, then I killed about fourteen.”

“He killed fourteen tributes?”

“Yes, he was the strongest in there. I was just smarter. He wasn't even from District 9. I don't know why he fell for me.”

Blaine gives her a look, as sympathetic as he can muster, because she must know by now. She has been using that charm ever since she got out of that Arena to gather sponsors for the new tributes. Her charm is the strongest thing about her. As it is Cooper's. It got her a killing machine on her side, it got Cooper a bunch of rich old ladies to sponsor him with weapons and food. 

“But then I got out and I refused to let Snow use me, sell me, as I told you before, and before we knew it our parents were killed. Everyone believes it was an accident in the factory and a suicide, but we know better. A peacekeeper came to tell us that, but they didn't even work at the factory. And after that they were torn, we think. They tried to punish Holly for teaching the wrong things by putting me in the Arena, then they needed to punish me for not listening to them. They didn't want for me to win, just like they didn't want for you to win. My death was supposed to be her punishment and her death then was supposed to be mine. They didn't kill either of us. At one point we thought they might have forgotten she was my sister. After all, when she married her last name changed and they didn't kill her for a long time. We thought she was safe and then she started teaching again, that was when she was your teacher, but they knew immediately. And that's when she was dragged from your class. I thought she was dead, until now she showed up in my cell.”

“She was in our quarters too,” Blaine puts in, “we didn't see our avoxes until the morning we were leaving. I guess you didn't see her at all, she kept completely to herself but she woke me.” He turns to Holly then, “I knew you looked familiar.”

Holly nods, holds an arm out for Blaine and he crawls into it like he did when he was younger. He remembers one particular day, he had scraped his knee pretty badly on the playground and he'd been crying for his mother. It's a general story, he supposes, every kid scrapes their knee and gets comforted by their teacher at some point in their school going career, but he remembers it all too fondly now. As he crawls up to this tongue-less woman, it feels as if he's back on that little wall that surrounded the playground. He's back there with his scraped knee and her comforting words, telling him he could go to his mommy in a few hours.

He misses his mom, he misses his mother and he misses his father. He misses Cooper and he misses Kurt. He tells Quinn and Holly about the show, tells them about Peeta and how off he had seemed. He misses Kurt and he wants to be in Kurt's embrace, not Holly's, but he's here with them and he has to make sure the Capitol doesn't get their way. He knows they have put Holly in here to throw him and Quinn off, to make them more vulnerable and to show them they are still in control. They had taken Quinn up there to make her stronger, to make her think she stood a fighting chance when they gave her medicine and cleaned her up and fed her, only to make her lose her mind over a reunion with a supposedly dead sister.

They showed Blaine the broadcast with Peeta, they made him stand by in case something went wrong, to show him they have the control over Peeta. They have the control over the tributes still inside the Capitol. They can torture them, they can make them say things no camera that they don't agree with. They can make them say and do things that would have their family and friends turn against them. They are in control.

If they're even still alive, he doesn't know if they are still alive. Annie hadn't been able to provide Blaine with the information he wanted, she had not been able to tell him how they got the jabberjay to scream out with her voice. She had looked pretty tortured, too, and Blaine wonders if that is because they had been wrenching out her voice to use in the Arena. He won't know, maybe ever, what happened to her, or Kurt.

They wait for Johanna to join them in this new cell, they wait for Enobaria and for Annie but none of them come. Then, after a day or two, they hear Johanna scream loudly at the end of the hall. All she does is scream out Annie's name, no explanation and when Blaine tries to scream back, a guard rams on the door and tells him to shut up. It's clear, they're not allowed to communicate with the others anymore. 

It takes a few more days before they figure out they've been regrouped for organization purposes. It's when they overhear two guards talk, saying it's easier to remember who is put in which cell now they're sorted by District number. At first Blaine is relieved, the lack of Johanna and Annie in their cell now can mean as much as they're down in another cell with people from their home. He sleeps for the first time since they've been regrouped, he sleeps with his head in Holly's lap and her fingers carted through his hair. 

It's not a very peaceful sleep, the rats that walk over his legs and stomach, they manifest in his dreams as giant snakes. Then the snakes turn into his family, into Kurt and everyone whose whereabouts he is uncertain about. He dreams until one of them, it looks like his father but it might as well be Burt Hummel, is up close to his face and he wakes with a jolt to Quinn hanging over him.

“You keep muttering everyone's names,” she announces bluntly. 

Holly is still petting his hair, she sits quietly and nods slightly to confirm Quinn's words. Her expression, though, isn't as worrisome as Quinn's. It's as if she understands better, and maybe she does. Which, to Blaine, doesn't really make sense. It's Quinn who has lived with the Andersons for years and it is Quinn who has seen Blaine fall hard and fast for Kurt. And when Blaine looks closer at Quinn he notices the way her brow is furrowed, and he knows Quinn. This isn't worry or confusion. It's anger and frustration.

“I don't know why you keep worrying,” she says, “we know we're sorted into these dumps by District.”

“Because we have no idea where they are,” Blaine answers, feeling in his everything how much he doesn't want to have this conversation. He knows she misses Cooper like he misses Kurt, but it still isn't the same. She has Holly here. He supposes he does, too, but she isn't Cooper and she isn't Kurt. Quinn doesn't miss her love and her family. If anything, Quinn got her family back. Blaine wishes he didn't hold it against her the way he does. And he really doesn't think she has a right to look at him in that motherly fashion he knows so well.

He liked that look when he was a little boy, and she'd crawl up into bed with him after nightmares. He liked that look when he was twelve and she told him it was perfectly normal to have a crush on his classmate Sam. Even if he was a boy. He remembers how much he had liked talking to her about things he didn't dare tell his own mother just yet. He had liked it.

He doesn't like it now, in a cellar under the ground, where they are being held against their will. He isn't that boy anymore. And she isn't that woman anymore. 

“Of course we know where they are,” she says after a while, she sits back on her heels and gets through a coughing fit. Blaine can see her ribs expand and he is almost afraid her tiny body will explode. Holly reaches out a hand for Quinn to hold, which seems to calm her down a bit. Blaine waits until she's all coughed out before he responds.

“As long as we're in this cell without them, we don't know where they are.”

“Blaine,” Quinn says, her voice hoarse with extortion, “we're sorted by District, they aren't here with us. It's simple, they are either safe or dead.”

As the gray mass between safe and dead disappears, Blaine suddenly feels that much stronger. His body feels lighter and though Kurt isn't technically from their District, he knows the same is true for him. He'd been in on the operation and if the entire operation has failed, Kurt would have awaited the same faith as his family. After all, they used Kurt's voice for the jabberjays as well as his family's voices. They knew how much Kurt means to him, he is either safe or dead.

They're either safe or dead. He doesn't have to be strong for them anymore, they are either safe or dead and Blaine can fight. He can scream Annie and Johanna's name and the guards can tell him to shut up but the only thing that will happen is he'll live or die. 

He starts to breathe, he gathers a strength in his chest and in his voice and he plans on telling Annie how Finnnick is either safe or dead, how there is no in between and everything is good. He's safe, or he's dead. Wherever they are, six feet under or in District Thirteen, they aren't being tortured. They aren't being tortured and everything is clear in Blaine's hazy mind. They are okay. They are safe. Or they aren't anything at all anymore. They aren't hurting, they aren't scared or fighting against the Capitol. 

He opens his mouth wide to start the sound, but the clarity in his mind dissapears and a fog fills up the room. He retreats back from the door he had hurried too, and huddles in a corner with Quinn and Holly. He grabs for their hands and then he lets himself fall down. The room around him, as much as he can see off it in the dark, spins. He wants to turn to Holly, tell her how he feels, but she is bent over an unconscious Quinn and as Blaine tries to see what is going on there he feels himself slip too. Slowly, this time, different than when he was hit in the Arena, he slips into darkness.

And just as sudden the darkness disappears and he is in a bright, white room again. Next to him is Cooper. He wants to smile, but the light is so bright and his head hurts and he slips away again.

When he awakes the second time it's Plutarch Heavensbee hanging over him.

“Good, good.” The man mutters.

“Cooper...-” Blaine croaks, his voice hoarse and his breath stale. It feels like he's been under for days.

“Cooper isn't here, I'm afraid,” Plutarch says, “but you're good, boy, you're safe now.”

Blaine wants to sit up, wants to tell Plutarch how much he is not a boy, thanks to Plutarch's failed plan he has spent forever in a cell being naked, pissing in a corner and eating nothing but stale bread. He wants to fly to Plutarch's throat and squeeze it shut when he says again.

“You're safe, I promise, we're on our way to Thirteen.”

It gets through to him then, he's safe. He's okay. He's not in the cell anymore and he is wearing something that feels like pajamas. He tries to lift his arm but finds it strapped tight, and when he looks down there's an IV there.

“I can't really inform you about everything yet, because the nurses will kill me, but I can tell you you're safe.”

Blaine nods, tries a grateful smile and then closes his eyes again. He lets himself drift off, and forces himself not to wonder whether or not he imagined Cooper earlier.

He didn't. The third time he wakes Cooper and Finnick are at his bedside together. Finnick looks pale, tired, his eyes are sunken and not at all focused on Blaine. He is holding Cooper's hand tightly while eying the curtain that is next to Blaine's bed.

“Hi,” Cooper says, his voice strained and hoarse. There's a large gash over his eye that seems to still be bleeding. Blaine wants to reach out and grab Cooper's other hand, ask what is going on and where they are but he finds his body unable to move and his voice unable to produce sound. He looks up, into Cooper's eyes and pleads with his mind that Cooper will explain.  
Everything hurts, everything is a blur and he has a headache that makes thinking nearly impossible.

“You're okay,” Cooper's voice whispers, suddenly closer and when did he crouch down next to Blaine's bed? His head is just visible over the side bars, to which straps are attached that hold Blaine in place. He notices his legs and arms bound to it and begins to thrash. He's supposed to be safe, Plutarch said he's safe and his feet and legs are bound to the bed. He needs to get out, needs to get away. He needs to run, run and be safe. He needs to run far away and take Cooper and find Quinn and Holly and Kurt and he needs to get away from everything.

“Blaine!”

Cooper's voice is firm as he presses a hand to Blaine's chest. “Rest, Blaine, calm down and take deep breaths. You're okay. You're safe.”

The words aren't comforting, not at all. He's tied down and it's terrible and he can't go anywhere. He woke up in a bright room after not having seen light for who knows how long and he can't breath. He can't breath, he cannot breath and Cooper's hand on his chest hurts and he needs to know where Quinn is because she had been so weak. So feeble and so sick, he needs to know she's still alive. He needs to know where she is and he must get himself out of these bounds.

He keeps thrashing, Cooper presses down firmer and calls for someone. He trashes and he wants to ask Cooper to help him, he must understand how important it is to get to Quinn. Holly, where is Holly? And then a woman walks in with a large syringe, Cooper's hand disappears from his chest and the needle gives a painful sting as she shoves it into his arm. Blaine thinks, shortly before everything turns black, that maybe they have brainwashed Cooper and Plutarch the same way they seemed to have brainwashed Peeta.

The third time he wakes up, Cooper and Finnick are gone. He hears Annie's voice through the curtain and he figures that's why Finnick was so focused on it. He tries to remember how he got into this room, but he can't. He focuses on his muscles, trying to move them without freaking out about the bonds and he can't. The entire bed starts to shake and he wonders if maybe the Cooper had been a mutant. He can't be safe, something has to be going on.

A door creeks, it opens very slowly and only when he sees streaks of silver hair poking around the corner he finds his voice.

“Kurt?”

Kurt follows, in clothes that make absolutely no sense. Even when Kurt had been wearing the comfortable fitting clothes just before the Quarter Quell, they had been flattering and stylish. Nothing about what he's wearing now is stylish or looks even slightly designer worthy. It all hangs loose off his body and his lonely eyes match the depressing look it gives off perfectly. There is no silver. Is this really Kurt? There is no silver.

“Blaine?” His voice is soft, tentative and a little lost, “are you..- are you awake?”

“Obviously,” Blaine smiles. Though there is nothing to smile about, Kurt looks scared and lost and not at all like they are safe and okay where they are.

“They just...-” he looks over his shoulder to the door that falls close, before he moves forward and rests a hand over Blaine's bound one. “They said you might be asleep and that you might be very confused and scared if you were awake.”

“I am very much awake,” Blaine answers, turns his hand in the belt around his wrist and grips Kurt's tightly. “I'm awake.”

“You're awake.”

“Are you real?”

Kurt's eyes shoot up from where they were looking at their joint hands, and he looks Blaine in the eyes for the first time since before the Quarter Quell took off. Electricity shoots through Blaine's body as their eyes connect, everything inside him feels alive like it did the first time they kissed. He tries to lift his right hand to touch Kurt's cheek, to stroke his perfect cheekbone and let a thumb caress the defining tattoo, but he is held back and lets it drop again with a thud.

“You're real.”

“I'm real,” Kurt confirms, “I'm real and I want to hold you. Can I hold you?”

Blaine nods, tears welling in his eyes as Kurt curls up close to him and holds him tight. He wish he could answer the hold, but he can't and so he lies there motionless with his face buried deep in grown out silver streaks. Kurt's hair is long, longer than he's ever seen it before and the streaks are just in the tip. The tattoo next to his eye has faded, it's almost a simple shadow now it's not touched up recently and Blaine manages to bend his neck just far enough to kiss it softly.

Kurt responds with a hum, turns his head and presses his lips firmly against Blaine's. It's strange, kissing like this, unable to throw his arms around Kurt, but somehow he manages to convey to Kurt what he wants. Firm presses of lip against lip, Kurt's hands to the sides of his face and then sweet open mouths and tongues finding each other. They breath each other in like it's the first time, or maybe like it's the last time and they keep pressing together for as long as they're allowed.

Kurt lies fully on top of him, rocking them together and making both of them forget the entire world around them until a scraping voice announces they're not alone.

Annie smirks at them from her bed and gives an awkward thumbs up with her free hand. The other one is firmly, almost obsessively, being held by Finnick. He smiles at Blaine in a distant fashion while Kurt climbs off him and sits on the stool next to his bed. He grabs Blaine's hand again, unable to be fully apart. 

“Good to see you,” Finnick says, his voice hallow and lonely. In his free hand Blaine sees a rope full of knots and wonders what that means. Annie seems to notice it too, and reaches for it. She takes the rope and starts knotting more knots. She doesn't wonder the way Blaine does what those knots might mean.

“I figure you all want some explanation?” Finnick asks, looking between Annie and Blaine and ignoring the way Annie is utterly engrossed with his rope.

“Can I be free first?” Blaine asks, and though they should probably wait until someone from the hospital staff gives permission, Kurt starts to untie him. As soon as he's free he sits up and bundles the blankets in his lap. He pulls Kurt closer to him and leans against him as much as he can while on a stool and Blaine in a bed. He holds tightly onto Kurt as Finnick talks.

He talks about being rescued, about going on missions into the districts and tells them how most Districts are at war with the Capitol now. It all seems like good news, it all seems like a lot of innocent lives lost. District 12 is completely wiped out, Peeta's memory was altered and he thinks the Capitol are the good guys now. They decided to rescue them only because Katniss was losing her mind over Peeta. Everything is still about Katniss.

Katniss is walking around in Kurt's designs, Cinna is dead. Katniss thinks the designs are Cinna's because she doesn't trust anyone but Cinna. Kurt is working hard to get her the perfect outfits and he gets none of the credit. It's one of those things that Blaine sometimes despises about Kurt, that he can complain about not getting credit when the entire country is at war. He loves it at the same time, that Kurt can worry about something so minor. It makes him see things in perspective. The only District left to conquer is Two. Cooper and Katniss are in District Two currently, fighting to captivate it so the Capitol stands alone. 

All this time nothing is mentioned about Johanna, Quinn, Holly or Enobaria. Blaine wonders what has become of them. He hasn't seen Johanna since before they were separated in their cells. He doesn't ask, doesn't want to hear the news. Later, when he is released from the hospital wing he finds out Johanna is very much alive. She is hooked on morphling and still in the hospital wing, but she's alive.

Kurt takes Blaine around District 13. It's small, completely underground and it's utterly weird. Kurt managed to convince one of the ladies that Blaine can share living arrangements with him rather than Cooper, because Cooper will want to share with Quinn. They are hard about it, say that only married or blood related people can share bunks, but Kurt and Cooper seem to be important enough to the cause to get exceptions. After the living arrangements are set, Kurt tells Blaine he has a surprise for Cooper.

He takes Blaine down deep underground, to what seems to be a television room and to his utmost surprise he finds Beetee there, alive and well. Maybe even the most healthy of all the victors he's seen so far. He still hasn't seen Quinn, and he hasn't dared to ask for her but seeing Beetee makes him forget for a second.

“Blaine, my boy!” Beetee exclaims, “it's so incredibly good to see you.”

“You too,” Blaine smiles, hugging the man with one arm, he other occupied holding Kurt's firmly. He can't let go of Kurt. Not now, not ever. “What are you doing down here so deep in the ground?” He asks, trying to make light conversation.

“Well,” he says, “I have been able to break into the Capitol's broadcast system and I'm now showing them what's happening in District 2.”

“You've...-” a loud bang interrupts Blaine's sentence, and they all turn to the screens behind Beetee, where they see Katniss Everdeen fall to the ground.

“Shit.”

It's mutual from Kurt's and Beetee's mouths, and only when the camera zooms in on Katniss Blaine realizes she's just been shot. Live, on television. Then everything turns to black and Beetee starts to rapidly click away at buttons and type into a keyboard with weird symbols. Blaine is tethered to the ground where he stands. This can't be true, the Mockingjay is not dead minutes after he was released from hospital.

He did not spend months, if he must believe Kurt and Finnick that it was that long, in a cell with rats pissing on his face to wake up from that nightmare and have the Mockingjay be over. He risked his life for her, he ended up in the Capitol because he was set to save Panem rather than himself and he did not live through that to have it be over now. He needs her alive, he needs her safe.

“Come, Blaine,” Kurt urges, “let's get out of here.”

He can't move. He's not able to move his feet and he feels himself lifted of the ground. He's slung over Kurt's shoulder and he can't protest. He's put to bed and he still can't move, he stares at the ceiling until he falls asleep. When he wakes up, Kurt is sitting on the bedside in nothing but his underwear.

“She's alive,” he says, “she's hurt, but she's back here and in the hospital. She's with Johanna, they hate each other but they are fine.”

Blaine blinks a couple times. She's alive, she was shot and she's alive.

“Quinn?” he croaks, his voice less hoarse than yesterday but his body more exhausted now the morphling and sleeping medicine are out of his body. At least he's able to move again.

“Quinn is... -” Kurt hesitates.

“If she's dead, just tell me.”

“No!” Kurt presses, “No, she isn't dead. Or at least, not yet.”

Blaine nods. It's what he's been fearing, it's what he's been preparing himself for and he keeps nodding, unable to find the emotion he needs to feel right now. There isn't anything inside. He doesn't feel sad or heartbroken.

“There isn't anything they can do to save her that wouldn't kill the baby.”

“What?”

“The baby...”

“As I said,” Blaine says as he sits up, “what?”

“You didn't know she was pregnant?”

To this, Blaine shakes his head. He hadn't had a clue, he still doesn't really believe it. It's so out of the blue and he doesn't really have a way of processing it. He's confused, he wants to get to her now but he can't. He doesn't know where she is and he was deemed healthy enough to report to work. He goes to breakfast with Kurt and gets his hand engraved with some weird ink that tells him to be in a meeting in a certain room at 9.00am. The breakfast is stale, simple and about the most welcome meal Blaine has had in months. It's weird to have everyone around him be clothed again, but somehow he feels very comfortable that everyone is at least wearing the same thing. He notices that people look at him weirdly, until a slender, gorgeous boy sits across from them.

“You're one of the rescued victors, aren't you?” He asks.

Blaine nods as he takes a bite of his bread roll.

“I'm Sebastian,” the boy says, “I grew up in Thirteen. It's good here, and we're helping you overthrow the Capitol. I don't think you should hang with Capitol people, that makes you look like you're on their side.” He shoots Kurt a nasty look, who shoots back a sharp glare and Blaine is proud of his boyfriend, if proud is a word to use in current situations. He presses a kiss to Kurt's cheek and turns to Sebastian.

“Thank you for the advice,” he says, “but I'm pretty sure I can make up my own mind about who to trust.”

After just two days of walking around in Thirteen he has made up his mind that he doesn't like the people from Thirteen. They're too strict about their rules, and even though they are much better and a lot more peaceful than the rules in Panem, he still feels like he's being repressed and isn't that exactly what he was fighting against?

People look at him weird when he tells he is in love with Kurt.

“But he's a boy,” one of the people had said, “you cannot procreate with him.”

“That seems to be their only purpose,” Cooper tells him at lunch. It is good to see Cooper again, who had come out of the fight in District 2 surprisingly unharmed. Both their minds are so preoccupied with Quinn that they find it hard to have any real conversations so far. “They have been living underground and some kind of disease has wiped out half their population. All they want is to procreate so they made homosexuality forbidden.”

“So the love between me and Kurt is just as forbidden here as it is in Panem?”

“Even more,” Cooper says, “in Panem it is illegal because you're from different Districts, but they would turn a blind eye had you not been of any significance to them. No one their cares about gender, especially in the Capitol. It was only so wrong because you were a figure in the public eye and love between the Capitol and a victor would make it seem like they were equal. Here, though, it's illegal on every level. They're turning a blind eye now because you're in the public, you're a surviving captive of the Capitol and you can tell them what horrors you lived through. You're significant to the cause so they decide to let you love him, but if they had their way they would make you procreate.”

He's so bitter when he says it, it makes Blaine think of Quinn and Cooper and her pregnancy.

“Cooper,” he says softly, “are they...-” it takes him every ounce of strength to get the words out, “are they letting Quinn die so the baby can be of significance to the cause?”

Cooper turns his head away from Blaine, looks up at the ceiling and swallows hard. Blaine knows he's fighting back tears and chooses to ignore it. Cooper doesn't want Blaine to see him cry and so he will pretend he didn't notice.

“I don't know,” Cooper answers honestly, “but Quinn says she wants it this way. She says she can't live knowing she killed a baby in the process. I told her I can't take care of the baby without her and all she did was start to sing this stupid song.”

Blaine nods, he knows the song.

“Pure and simple,” he sings, “born in a world where love survives.”

Kurt chooses that moment to sit across from them, with his plate full of food that he would normally never eat and Blaine looks at him through different eyes. A world where love survives, that's what they are fighting for. A world where there are no victors and people from the Capitol. Where everyone is free to love whoever they want. Free to be whatever they want, free to travel where ever they want to travel to.

He gets up and hurries to the hospital. If he is so important to the cause that they turn a blind eye to his love for Kurt, he's pretty sure they can turn a blind eye when he skips duties to be with Quinn. Holly sits next to the bed when he gets there, and she smiles widely when Blaine walks in. It's almost as if she has no idea what's going on outside this room and all there is is her sister. 

She gives him a hug and leaves the room, as if she knows Blaine wants to be alone with Quinn. He sits next to her bed and ignores the hollow cheekbones. He takes her hand and strokes it softly. He starts to sing her song to her, she remains asleep and motionless. He strokes her hand, tucks her hair behind her ear kisses her cheek and crawls in the bed next to her. He takes her in his arms and apologizes over and over again.

“I'm sorry,” he says, “I'm sorry I didn't know. I'm sorry I didn't notice.”

“Shut up.”

Her voice is so weak, so fragile and at the same time so entirely Quinn that Blaine lets out a startled, painful laugh. “You couldn't know,” she says, “I knew but I didn't tell you. You couldn't know.”

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” she says, “It felt just like last time.”

“Last time?”

“Oh.”

“Quinn...-” It's as if this woman in his arm is turned into a little girl he doesn't know at all. Quinn turns and faces him. Her face is almost gray, her cheeks hollow and her eyes so bright and warm that Blaine can't help but burst into tears.

“Who are you?” He asks.

Quinn closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and opens her mouth to talk, but all that comes out is a sob and then tears start to flow. Blaine holds her close as he, too, cries. They lay like that for longer than is comfortable and they keep lying like that even when Blaine's back starts to hurt, when his arms seize up and when he's used up all his tears. He holds her tight and kisses her hair.

“It's okay,” he whispers, “you're okay, we'll be okay. We'll figure it out.”

“I really loved him.”

“Hey, you're not dead yet,” Blaine says, “you still have time to love him. All he's thinking about is you, you have time.”

“No, not Cooper,” Quinn says, “Noah.”

“Noah?”

“Noah Puckerman. District 4, killed 14 people in the 62nd Hunger Games, before he was killed by the second to last remaining tribute. The only reason I was able to slit his throat was because I was so angry he killed Noah.”

“Quinn, you don't have to tell me,” Blaine starts, “you need to rest and be strong, okay?”

“No,” she retorts, “I need to tell you Blaine. Before it's too late, I need to tell you. I know everything about you, I know you're fighting so you can be free, so you don't have to see people die in the Games anymore and so you can be with Kurt and I need to tell you why I'm fighting and why I hate Katniss so much and I need to tell you.”

“Okay, okay. Tell me everything.”

She takes a deep breath again, and launches into her monologue without hesitation. “I saw him and there was just this thing between us. He was a career and I knew I had to play this thing between us as well as I could. I knew how to make boys like me, it's a thing Holly taught me at a young age. I'd smile at him sweetly during training, sit with him at lunch and I made out with him in the elevator the day before we started the games. I told myself it was to seal the deal, but I honestly enjoyed kissing him. Then in the games we made this pact and we were together all the time. We kissed, we made love and it was real, but I knew it was still a show so when he was asleep I'd pretend I was faking it. I was faking that I was faking, does that make sense?”

“I guess.”

“And I knew one of us had to die, but I didn't know how and he killed everyone and he kept saying it'd be okay. That we would figure it out, but then we didn't. He got himself killed by the last remaining enemy and to this day I think he did it on purpose. He wanted me to win, to survive and he knew I'd be unable to kill him so he got himself killed and hoped I would kill the other boy. I did, I slit his throat without preamble. I killed him without thinking about it twice because I loved Noah and I didn't know how to live without him, and this boy took him away from me. I didn't think for a second that I would be a victor when I did, but then Claudius Templesmith announced me as the winner and I was picked up by the hovercraft. I was in the Capitol and tests were performed and they locked me away in a room. I did the interview, was locked away again. I know the story is that Snow wanted me for himself, but that isn't entirely true.”

“It isn't?”

“I mean, he did and he bought me, but I was so wrapped up in losing Noah and having to do all the interviews and stuff that I wasn't really bothered by it. I did the victory tour like any other person and then went back to the Capitol. I thought that happened to every victor, or every female victor at least. I was put up in one of the chambers in his room. He'd do...- stuff, he'd do stuff to me until he felt like my belly was too big and I was moved to the hospital.”

She sighs deeply, once, moves a little closer to Blaine and continues with her story. Blaine hardly dares to make a sound as she speaks.

“By this point I knew what was happening,” she says, “I'd felt the baby move inside me, my breasts were about twice their normal size and my belly was about the size of a water melon. I knew what was happening, so I figured they'd let me stay in the hospital and send me home after I had the baby. You have to know at this point I still believed Snow had a special liking for me. I was sent into the Arena with no mentor, my escort pretended victors loved the Capitol and I was put up in Snow's mansion after I won. Yes, he did things to me, but I didn't know that wasn't normal. I thought I had it good.

“That was, until I was put under anesthetics and woke up, the baby belly gone and a nurse tending to a large wound on my belly. I asked her to see my child and she said I'd be able to see my daughter later. I went back to sleep and woke up to a dark haired woman standing over me, holding a little girl. She thanked me for granting her her wish and promised me no one would know she was mine. I wasn't to tell anyone I had a baby. I was too far gone to protest, I still think they drugged me so I would agree to giving her up.”

“Quinn, that's terrible.”

“The last thing I requested before she left was to call the baby Beth. The woman seemed nice, she couldn't have children herself and she was looking at the little girl like she was the moon and the sky. Strangely, I trusted her. I asked her to call the baby Beth, because there was a song Noah used to sing to me in the Arena. He said it reminded him of his little sister, he used to sing that to her before bed every night. I wanted her to be Beth. I hope she is safe right now, and well.”

“Quinn...-” Blaine starts, unable to say anything but her name.

“I was sent home a couple weeks later, to find my parents had died and my sister thought it was best to not be in contact as much, for protection. It was just in time to appear on stage for that year's reaping. Cooper's name was reaped, I saw your wide eyes and knew I had to do anything and everything to get this boy out. If anything happened when they took Beth away from me, it was that I couldn't handle families being torn apart anymore. I just saw your big eyes, your fear and I completely forgot about the female tribute. She didn't have any kid siblings, I didn't care about her. And so I seduced a bunch of rich old men, made them buy Cooper ridiculous gifts and he survived. You all moved into Victor Village, and we fell in love. It's as simple as that. We always thought I couldn't get pregnant again, that they did something during Beth's birth to prevent it, but for some reason I just never got pregnant until just before the Arena.”

“When you used to sing to me,” Blaine starts, “were you singing about Beth?”

“I always hoped I was,” Quinn says, “in a way sometimes I was happy she grew up in the Capitol. At least I always knew she was safe from the Games.”

“Do you think she's safe now?” Blaine asks, to which Quinn shrugs her bony little shoulders.

“No one is safe,” Quinn answers, “but it's for the greater good. It's to ensure this one is.” She grabs Blaine's hand and puts it to her tiny belly. Blaine knows now it's been six months since they entered the Games. Three more months to go. The baby is probably underfed, just like its mother, tiny and bony and unhealthy. If Quinn doesn't survive this, the baby has to. He knows that much.

“And why do you hate Katniss Everdeen so much?” He asks then, remembering another part of what Quinn said earlier.

“She didn't really love him, yet she got both of them out and became the Mockingjay,” Quinn says, “I did really love Noah, yet he died.”

“I'm sorry,” Blaine says, kissing the hand Quinn holds his with, “I'm sorry all of this happened to you.”

“It's not your fault,” Quinn says, “you're my little brother and you deserved to know. I'm just sorry I never shared it before.”

Blaine wants to tell her she isn't to blame for that, that it's her story and she deserves to tell anyone she wants on her own terms. That she's not obligated to tell anyone and that he is merely lucky she trusts him enough to be part of her life. He knows how hard trust comes to most victors, to people who have lived through horrors and badly as they have and he knows he himself is one of the lightest cases of victors. He still has his brother, his semi-sister and he still has hope to find his parents once it is safe enough to return to Nine. He has Kurt, he loves Kurt and he has not killed anyone but the boy from Four. He wonders, suddenly, if the boy from Four was somehow related to Noah Puckerman, and thereby Beth. He is too afraid to ask Quinn.

He hasn't been sold to Capitol residents for sex, or companionship, he hasn't been raped the way Quinn has and no one has stolen his baby. His parents weren't killed and his District wasn't wiped out the way Twelve was. He knows he is lucky and so he starts to devote all of his time on helping the victors who have been hit harder than him to get ready for their attack on the Capitol. He completely redesigns his own schedule after he hears Katniss had ordered them immune to punishment, and he starts to spend his time getting Johanna back on her feet. He slowly helps her off the morphling, and he carries her and Katniss through training. 

He, Holly and Cooper take turns in guarding Quinn, who is mostly put on sleeping cures. They sit at her bedside so someone is always with her when she is awake. Blaine trains in the center, gathers all the strength he had lost and spends his hours away from Quinn and training with Kurt. It's easy, being around Kurt, when they both are so busy during the day. There are times when it almost feels nice, domestic, to be lying in bed and recapping their days to each other.

He loves making love to Kurt, he revels in the feeling of Kurt pressed close to him and when he tells him about the new weapons Beetee has made for everyone it is as if he is telling Kurt about his day at the factory, rather than the weapons he intends to kill as many of Snow's employees with. Blaine falls into life in Thirteen easy, though it's too strict for him and too formal, he notices it's a very effective way of preparing people for war. Yet, his favorite night by far is Finnick and Annie's wedding. They wheel Quinn in, she sways softly and sleeps a lot, Cooper in the bed with her. Blaine dances with Kurt, all night, and it's almost as if they're on a regular date. He sings them a song and he makes Kurt dance with him while he sings. Every time Kurt laughs he falls in love a little bit more.

In training, next to Quinn, in bed with Kurt, two months fly by and it is time for the recruitment test. They expect the Capitol to be a maze of traps set to filter out the spies, the attackers and the rebels, and so they are to show they're not afraid of anything. Blaine is ready to go in, ready to show how much he wants to avenge his friends who have lived through so much. Who have been put through the horrors of the Games and all the horrors that come after. He wants to shoot whoever took Quinn's baby from her, he wants to kill the people who used Finnick's body like he was a mere puppet. He wants to end the lives of those who are behind the death of all the parents, all the loved ones that his friends have lost. He wants to hold them responsible for their actions.

Yet, with all this rage inside him, as soon as a robot that is so close to an actual human comes close to him, he can't pull the trigger. He knows this is a threat, he knows he's supposed to kill this thing, but he can't. He can't kill and he freezes in place. He is taken out of the room, into another where Kurt waits patiently. Blaine tries to ignore the relief on Kurt's face when he says he won't be going into combat. He hates it, he hates that he can't go out there and fight and that he'll have to sit here and wait.

It hurts even more when they announce Cooper's name, and Cooper is off to the Capitol with what they call the Star Quad. Holly with him, as a camera woman. He completely drops the tasks inked on his hand every morning and sits with Quinn, who is left behind by her sister and lover at the same time, waiting for Kurt to come in with the news every day.

One of those days, Primrose Everdeen walks in to give Quinn her medicine that keep her alive for now. She's still so extremely fragile and small, they are giving her prenatal vitamins and supplement that improve the baby's well being, but can't give medicine to fight the bloody cough she has. Quinn refuses to take them, as they will kill the baby. She says she can take them after birth, but Blaine wonders if she'll even get that far.

“Beth would be her age now,” Quinn says after Primrose leaves, “weird, isn't it, that they're the same age? I wonder what Beth does, do you think she's a nurse just like Prim?”

“Maybe,” Blaine answers sweetly, “maybe she's helping the wounded in the Capitol right now.”

Blaine knows she most likely isn't, but it seems to calm Quinn down and that's all he wants. Quinn falls back asleep and Blaine runs after Katniss's sister.

“Primrose!” He yells through the hall, “Primrose!?”

She turns around, “call me Prim,” she says with a gentle smile and then gives him a questioning look, “can I help you?”

“I just... -” he says, “I wanted to say, if you ever want to talk about your sister being in combat right now, I'm here. My brother is there too, you know. Cooper Anderson is my brother.”

“I know,” Prim says, “I know who you are, and who your brother is. Thank you, so much, but I'm afraid I can't do much talking. I'm leaving to go there tomorrow myself.”

“You're...- what?” Blaine stumbles over his words as he tries to comprehend what she just said, “you're only fourteen!”

“They need all the medical staff down there,” she says, “too many people have fallen already.”

Blaine nods and lets her go. He doesn't think about what she means until Kurt comes into the room with his eyes sunken and low.

“I was in the television room with Beetee,” he says, “we were trying to come up with a new weapon design that I could build into the uniforms. It's not good.”

Quinn is asleep, Kurt asks Blaine to wake her before he delivers the news and Blaine knows it's going to be bad. Quinn wakes up more hazy than before, she seems confused about where she is and babbles nonsense until she lays eyes on Kurt.

“It's okay,” she tells Kurt, “he told me you were coming.”

“What?”

“In my dream, he said you'd be here. I already know.”

“What is it you already know, Quinn?” Blaine asks. He's not feeling comfortable about the situation at all. Kurt seems to tired, too worried and upright and Quinn is too much at ease, so peaceful. It's not right, something isn't right and someone needs to tell him what on earth is going on.

“It's Cooper, right?” She asks Kurt, whose eyes widen, before he turns to Blaine and takes hold of his hand.

“Yes,” he answers, “I'm very sorry, Blaine.”

“No,” Blaine says, falling back in his chair as he deflates completely. “No, no, no.”

“We were in the TV room when a lot of commotion started to happen. It was dark and no one of the star quad had their camera on, so all we heard were the sounds from their costume's microphones, but it sounded like they were being chased by mutts.”

“Stop it,” Blaine rambles while letting go of Kurt's hand. He gets up and starts to walk around, trying to get the pain out of his legs, out of his stomach and body. Out of his head., “no, you're not about to tell me that. You can't tell me that, it's not true.”

“We heard Katniss scream Finnick and Cooper's names, but it was too late. She contacted us a few minutes later to confirm.”

“No. Don't say it,” Blaine says, crouching in a corner and completely ignored Quinn's inviting and open arms. “don't you dare say it. Don't fucking say it, Kurt, don't you dare.”

“I'm very sorry, Blaine,” Kurt says again, “but Cooper is dead.”

The floor disappears beneath Blaine's feet, or that is what it feels like. His stomach explodes and his thoughts start running in wild circles around his head. He thinks he's crying, but he can't be too sure. He bangs his fists on the floor as he screams, over and over again.

“No, no, no. Not Cooper, not Cooper. It isn't fair, not Cooper.”

He flinches when a hand is put on his shoulder, it hurts when a needle is jabbed into his arm and then his muscles relax and the world goes black. When he wakes up he is in a bed next to Quinn, his wrists and ankles bound to the bed again. As soon as he notices he starts to trash, screaming Cooper's name as loud as he can.

“COOPER!”

Kurt's hand on his cheek does nothing to calm him down. Cooper can't be dead, he needs to get to Cooper. There is no way Cooper is dead. He is going to fight president Snow and kill him and they are going to rebuild Panem in a much more peaceful way. They won't be repressed anymore and Cooper and Quinn will have this gorgeous little family with this beautiful little baby that's about to be born and Cooper Anderson cannot be dead. He will walk through that door any moment now. He will walk through that door and tell Blaine it was all a joke, that it was just a misunderstanding. They were pretending to be dead to keep Katniss safe. Yes, it was probably something ridiculous like that.

Expect it wasn't. Cooper is dead and they tell him three days later after they have identified some of his body parts. Blaine has never heard anything as cruel as that and he wonders if there wasn't any way they could have softened the blow. He's still ordered to stay in bed, though he's calmer now. He wants to get out of District Thirteen and back home, where he can mourn on his own terms. He wants to go somewhere they'll let him thrash and scream and cry as much as he wants without thinking he's heaving a mental breakdown.

“My brother died,” he tells Kurt and it's the first time he says it out loud. “My brother is dead, aren't I allowed to scream and cry and smash a few chairs if I feel like it?”

“Of course you are,” Kurt says, kissing Blaine's forehead. He's in the bed with Blaine, ignoring all his duties for as long as they refuse to release Blaine from the hospital. There are only two people of medical staff left, everyone else flown out to the Capitol to help the cause. It's eerily quiet, just Quinn and Blaine here. 

“My brother is dead and Finnick is dead. I really liked Finnick.”

“I know,” Kurt says, “you're allowed to cry as much as you want. When my mother died I cried for seven days straight.”

Blaine had almost forgotten about Kurt's loss, but for some reason it gives him a little peace knowing Kurt isn't a stranger to this kind of sadness. There are so many things that he can't relate to with Kurt, and things Kurt can't relate to about him, but this they seem to share. Kurt knows exactly what to say and do to ease the pain and at the same time knows exactly how to let Blaine feel it, to make him live through it in the most healthy way possible given circumstances. It's strange, the feeling in his stomach that eats him away when he thinks about not having a brother anymore. When he realizes that he has no idea whether or not he has a mother and when he thinks of maybe he's going to lose Quinn as well. His entire world collapses and when he looks at Kurt there is a tiny spark in him that thinks maybe he'll pull through.

He doesn't know how, and he doesn't even want to think about when, because for now he is allowed to be in pain. Cooper isn't coming back, he will never see Cooper again. He is gone, for good. 

“Boys,” Quinn interrupts an intimate moment between Kurt and Blaine as he is crying into Kurt's shoulder, “I think it's time.”

“No,” Blaine says, “no, Quinn, you're not allowed to announce when you plan to die.”

“For the baby to come.”

“Oh.”

Mrs Everdeen, one of the people left behind, comes in with a bunch of warm clothes and orders Blaine out of bed and into Quinn's bed. She positions him behind her, and positions her nurse to hold Quinn's leg on one side as Kurt is ordered to do the same on the other side.

“Oh Quinn,” she sighs, “you waited a long time to announce that, didn't you?”

“I just felt something pressing, I thought that meant to baby was coming,” she says.

“Yes, you must have been in labor for at least a couple of hours. Weren't you in pain?”

“I'm in pain all the time, I thought those were just my lungs again.”

Quinn sounds so clear, Blaine doesn't like it. It's not the way she's been since they got out of the Capitol's hold. She has been so fragile and broken the entire time, tired and her voice so hollow. She sounds clear now, almost strong and it can't be healthy for her body to push out a baby. He doesn't like it, he doesn't want it to be this way but he holds her and puffs with her. He tells her she's doing great as she pushes and he sings with her in between the pushes. 

“You lucky, lucky thing,” she sings Blaine's lullaby over and over again. She sings it to Blaine, to Beth, to this baby. She sings it to Cooper, to Finnick and everyone who has fallen in order to save Panem. She sings it so clearly, so beautifully it feels like an angel is reaching straight to all of their hearts. She sings it to the future generation who will be saved, which Cooper has helped secure. She sings for hours, until Mrs Everdeen announces the last push.

“Just once more, Quinn, and your baby will be here.”

Quinn pushes, a loud growl comes out of her mouth and a purple baby slips from between her legs. The baby starts to cry almost immediately and Blaine forgets about the world for a second when Quinn lets out a deep breath. She goes limp in Blaine's arms, with a peaceful smile on her face and her eyes fixed firmly on her daughter.

“You did amazing, Quinn, you did amazing.” He kisses her hair, but she doesn't respond.

“Quinn?” 

Mrs Everdeen turns around with the baby in her arms when she hears the tone in Blaine's voice. Kurt, too, turns his gaze from the baby to Blaine and Quinn.

“Quinn!” Blaine shakes her as best as he can from behind her. She is limp, she is pale, she is not breathing and Mrs Everdeen closes her eyes with two gentle fingers. 

“I'm sorry, Blaine.” 

“No,” Blaine whispers, crying softly as he watches the baby being wrapped in a warm cloth and gently put into Kurt's arms. Kurt looks between the little girl and Blaine, obviously uncomfortable about what to do in this situation. He softly bounces the baby and starts singing. It's the first time Blaine hears him sing, it's the first time he has probably sung since his mother died and it's as if the angel Quinn had summoned with her voice settled into Kurt. 

Someone walks into the room, Blaine can't be sure who because all he sees is Kurt. The person whispers something into Mrs Everdeen's ear, who freezes dead in her tracks. The person leaves the room again, Blaine wonders if they even noticed the dead body in the bed. There's an almost palpable silence in the room before Mrs Everdeen speaks.

“They did it.” She says. “They have the Capitol. They took control of the Capitol.”

Blaine doesn't know what to feel, as he keeps his eyes on Kurt. The cause is very much alive, they have reached their goal. The Capitol is in rebel's hands. Quinn is dead, Cooper is dead, and their daughter is resting peacefully in the arms of the man Blaine loves.

He looks at the little girl and he knows. Everything inside him is in shambles, his world is shaking on its foundations but still he sees that one thing that keeps him going, that keeps him alive. He sees the silver lining through this all and what it is, what it always has been, and it's love. She is theirs, born in a world where love survives. Because he fought for love, he fought to be free with Kurt and Quinn and Cooper fought for their love to be free. This little girl, she is the direct result of how much they loved each other and their love will survive in her.

“Do you want to name her?” Kurt asks, smiling down at her and Blaine, who's still holding Quinn close in his arms.

“I think...-” Blaine says, “I think we'll call her Almaz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only the epilogue left to go. Expect that somewhere tomorrow :). Let me know your thoughts, I'd love to hear them!


	10. Epilogue

“It's a big day tomorrow, honey, I think it's best if you go to sleep.”

“But Blaine...-”

Almaz is the spitting image of Quinn, though she has to goofy character Blaine associates more with Cooper. She's a rowdy girl who loves fashion about as much as Kurt does. Her room is a mess and Blaine smiles at the little picture of Quinn next to her bed before he gives her a kiss and bids her goodnight. He knows she'll probably rummage around for a while, but he lets her. He knows tomorrow is a big day for her and he knows she's a teenager. She will fall asleep eventually, he can't be too strict on a night like this.

He goes downstairs to find the wine already poured, Halina sitting by the fire and watching out the window like most nights before she leaves. To this day he can't believe he came home to find her safe and sound in the house in victor Village. The houses still intact, the Capitol too arrogant to bomb them and the people aware their owners were on their side. District 9 has been rebuilt, the roads are better now and the connections between all the villages and Center Village are quick and easy. 

Halina helps Kurt and Blaine around the house every day, as Kurt is busy designing wedding dresses for people throughout the Districts. It was a way to get back into the business when they first got to the District, a way to keep himself busy but now he loves it. He loves making brides happy and he loves travelling and getting to see everything he's never seen before. It's so much easier now traveling between Districts is free. 

Tonight is a big night, though, as tomorrow will be the first time they'll go back to the Capitol. It's been years since the rebels overtook it, since Katniss killed the wrong person and Snow died right there of a heart attack. It's been years since the republic had been instated and everything since has been calm and peaceful. 

Kurt and Blaine have never held back from Almaz who her mother and father are, they have always talked about Quinn and Cooper in a free matter and though Blaine wishes he could spare her from the cruelty of the Games, he knows one day she will start to ask questions. He knows, too, that he will answer every question she asks.

Just yesterday, she asked what the big statue on Market Square was for and Blaine had told her, “it's to honor people who fell in the overtaking of the Capitol. Just like your mother and father.”

“But you said my mother died in a hospital bed in your arms.”

“She did, but she did so because the Capitol made it unable for her to fight. She fought in the Games and she fought to keep you alive after they captured her. She was a brave woman and this statue is for her and your father, among others.”

“I wish I knew her.” 

“I wish you knew her, too.”

Sometimes Blaine feels like Almaz is too mature for her age, but then he remembers she must be as old as Prim was when he met her and he realizes, she isn't nearly as mature as that. War had scarred Prim, and Almaz is still as pure and simple as she was on day one. Okay yes, so he found her kissing a boy two weeks ago, but that is nothing compared to what teenagers in his time lived through. She doesn't know the fear of entering your name in a bowl, of waiting and praying someone else's name is reaped.

Sure, yes, at school they learn about the old Capitol, about the way the Games were held each year but Blaine notices at times that she and her friends are unable to completely grasp the idea of how horrible it was. Almaz knows Kurt is originally from the Capitol, that he used to have a tattoo next to his eye that was silver and looked like two musical clefs that formed a heart. She knows the way he speaks sounds different from hers or Blaine's and Halina's, but she doesn't know what it means.

She has been told that it was forbidden for them to love each other because they were from different places and she didn't understand.

“But love is something you can't stop.”

“I know, that's why we did it in secret.”

“But how can you forbid something that no one can help?”

“That's how repression works, sweetie, you forbid something even though it is completely ridiculous. Like loving each other, or eating certain food.”

“That's dumb,” she had said and Blaine had laughed. Yes, it is dumb and that's why they had fought it. He's happy to see she has none of the concerns he had. He revels when she yells at him about singing too loud when she has homework. Not now, though, she's been excused from education for a week to visit the Capitol. 

It's something that can happen now. Blaine tries to imagine asking for permission to leave school for a week in his time, and shivers when he sees Holly being dragged off out of the classroom. 

“Are you okay?” Kurt's voice comes from the doorway. He does that sometimes, stands in the doorway and just watches Blaine. He's grown used to it, though it was uncomfortable the first few months they lived together in this house. It's Blaine's house, in Victor Village, and it's been completely redecorated by Kurt. There's a lot of silver, but pink and green classically interwoven to remind them a little of Cooper and Quinn. The house feels like a warm nest now, with pictures of the fallen family members all across the walls. 

Halina gets up and kisses them both on the cheeks. She wishes them a safe trip and a wonderful time with their family before she leaves. Blaine admires her, the way she has picked herself up after peace came over Panem and how she now lives a full life with her best friend, Holly. It's amazing, too, how Holly has picked herself up after the things she lived through in the Capitol. They have worked out a communication system after Holly took up sign language, in which Almaz is as fluent as English. 

Holly and Halina share Quinn's house, and Blaine's parents still live in Cooper's house. They are fine, old, but fine. It was hard telling them what Blaine had gone through, and it was even harder telling them what fate Cooper and Quinn had suffered, but it was as if all of their pain was shoved aside the moment they held little Almaz in their arms. Blaine knows exactly how they must have felt, felt it himself when he realized it would be him and Kurt who would be Almaz's guardians. 

“What are you thinking about?” Kurt asks, as he drops next to Blaine and scoots close to him.

“Nothing,” Blaine answers, “everything. How much I love you.”

“You sap,” Kurt says with a smile and kisses Blaine softly on the lips. It's amazing, how he still loves Kurt so much after sixteen years together. Fourteen years of taking care of Almaz, fourteen years of sleeping next to each other every day and still whenever he sneaks a glance at Kurt he falls in love a little more with this unpredictable man who grew up with such different values from his own. Someone who he somehow fell in sync with the moment they became guardians of their beautiful girl, someone he will never, ever be able to live without.

“I love you, too,” Kurt says, “but I can tell you were thinking about something else.”

“Just, the olden days. How lucky Almaz is to grow up in this world, where she's free to do whatever she wants. And how much I love her. How much I miss Cooper and Quinn.”

Kurt falls silent, it's the only thing he can do when Blaine talks about how it was. He knows now that what he lived through wasn't nearly as horrible as what Blaine lived through. And they, together, know what they lived through was not nearly as bad as what Quinn lived through. Sometimes they look at Almaz together and all they see is Quinn's strength. The way she held herself together until this little girl was safe and well. The way she refused to go without a fight, the way she was strong until the end. Her motherly warmth and her sisterly love, it's all inside Almaz beneath Cooper's rowdy attitude, and his charm. 

Just before Kurt and Blaine go up to sleep, they stop by Almaz's room together and watch her sleep peacefully, her suitcase packed and ready to go. 

“She really is the most beautiful child that has ever been,” Kurt says, “and without any alterations as well.”

Blaine slaps Kurt playfully, kisses the light grey mark where his tattoo once was bright silver, and whispers how perfect he thinks Kurt is with or without alterations. 

They make love softly that night, Kurt kissing Blaine over and over again, trying to ease his mind about going to the Capitol. He knows they need to do it, but it scares Blaine nonetheless. The last time he was in the Capitol was naked in a dungeon with rats, Holly and Quinn as his roommates. He's anxious, he's scared and he crawls as close to Kurt as is humanly possible as he lets Kurt make him forget, make him feel good.

It's been like that since the moment they arrived back in Nine, Kurt the only one who could ever make Blaine truly forget about the horrors. Truly take his mind of off things. When Kurt isn't around, his mind is always on the Games. He still dreams about blood rain, about ice cold snow and Penny dying in his arms. He dreams about Quinn dying in his arms, too, and he dreams about Four's face as he stabs him. He wakes up screaming and the only thing that can comfort him is pale, strong arms and kisses to his neck. Words that whisper “I'm here, it's over, you're safe.”

“I'm here, it's okay, you're safe. My dad will be there, we're safe I promise.” Kurt keeps telling him the next day on the train. They let Almaz do whatever she wants, it's not like she can disappear anywhere on the moving vehicle and so they spend their time together in Blaine's old bedroom on the train. It's a little out of date, fourteen years after it's last use, but it is familiar and Quinn and Cooper's bedroom hasn't changed a bit so Almaz can spend a little quality time with her parents. She is happy in there, it is good.

The fifteen hours are long hours, especially for Blaine who is dreading his visit, and Kurt who is looking forward to seeing his father and the place where he grew up again. They aren't being served the way they used to, even though Blaine still has a lot of money from his victory, and Kurt is quite well off as a wedding dress designer, they prefer to do things themselves. It's the first time Blaine sets foot in the train's kitchen and he's amazed by the equipment they have on a moving vehicle.

They cook a lovely meal with the three of them, before Almaz gives them both a kiss and says she's going to bed. When they stop by her room that night to see if she's okay they find her with her face buried deep in one of the pillows, a bottle of perfume next to her on the bedside table, the drawer wide open.

“It smells like Quinn in here,” Blaine smiles. He remembers the first time he entered Quinn's house to show Halina and Holly around, how he couldn't stand her smell then. It hurt him too deep, the wounds were to fresh and he'd collapsed on the ground. Halina had to get Kurt to get him up and back to their own house. He smiles, now, as he smells her. It's a good smell, it's something that brings to mind those endless nights when he was a little boy afraid of his name being reaped and she would sing Almaz's song to fend away the nightmares.

Almaz blinks open her eyes and looks at her two caretakers in the doorway. 

“You're creeps,” she mutters and moves to the middle of the bed. “You're creeps and saps and I'm in my parents bed, I'm a little emotional so please come here and sing my song.”

Kurt gives Blaine a little push to encourage him, and he crawls up in the bed with Almaz. She lays her head on Blaine's chest, and Blaine notices she smells like Quinn. Kurt lies down on her other side, takes her hand and starts her song softly. He hums it first, before he continues with words.

“She only smiles  
He only tells her  
That she's the flower, the wind and spring  
In all her splendor,  
sweetly surrendering,  
the love that innocence brings

Almaz, pure and simple.   
Born in a world where love survives.  
Now men will want her  
'cause life don't haunt her  
Almaz, you lucky lucky thing”

She drifts off again quickly, and Blaine and Kurt smile at each other over the top of her hair before they, too, doze off. It must have been at least six years since the last time she fell asleep in between them, so they revel in it while they fall asleep. Their little girl, she's growing up and it's all going so fast in this world where she is safe from harm, where no one can hurt her. The world her parents fought so hard to create. Here, in their bed, Blaine knows they are proud of her, of him and how he and Kurt raised her. 

They rise the next morning when the train driver's voice announces they are about to enter the Capitol. Kurt is the first out of bed, so excited to be back in the place he once called home. He might hate the way the Capitol ran Panem, he still loves the people he called his family and friends. He still misses them and the way people lived here back then. Blaine tells Almaz to do whatever she wants to get ready, that it's still about half an hour to the train station and then he follows Kurt to the back of the train.

He finds him sat on the large sofa there, looking out the windows as the green rushes past. The train makes a slight jolt and then they're entering the Capitol's grounds. The large wall is still up around it, and Blaine sees the faded Mockingjay sign very much intact on the wall. 

“So much has changed.” Kurt says. “I'm scared.”

“Of what?”

“That my father has changed, that I won't really know who he is anymore.”

“You speak almost daily.”

“I know,” Kurt says, “but everything has changed. I haven't spoken to Tina in ten years, Isabelle in twelve. I have no clue who they are now, and whether they even like Panem or the Capitol at all anymore. I'm scared of what I'll find, how much this has changed and that maybe I won't fit in anymore.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Blaine asks, pressing up close against Kurt and kissing his cheek softly.

“You had other worries,” Kurt says, “realer worries. Like whether or not you'd be able to handle being in the place you were once captured.”

“That's very considerate of you,” Blaine whispers, “but we're in this together. I need to know what bothers you just as much.”

“It bothers me that I'm excited and scared at the same time.”

“It's okay,” Blaine says, “you're allowed to feel whatever you feel. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere and you're home with me, okay? Where ever it is. The Capitol, Nine, Thirteen for all I care, I'm home with you and you're home with me. We're home where ever Almaz is and wants to be. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They arrive at the train station not much later, Kurt drags a suitcase almost larger than himself, Almaz with one that is just as big and Blaine with a tiny one behind them. It's those tiny things where their difference in upbringing and background is so painfully obvious and it makes Blaine smile.

“Kurt!”

Blaine immediately recognizes Burt Hummel's voice. He hears it over the phone almost every night, as Kurt calls him to inform him how Almaz is doing, how he and Blaine are doing. It's so good to see the man in the flesh again. He looks older than he did thirteen years ago, the last time they saw him, he's been wheelchair bound ever since the bomb attack left him disabled and a lovely woman is pushing him. Kurt leaves the suitcase behind with Blaine and Almaz, and runs to his father.

“Dad!” He exclaims as he launches himself into a hug, “dad, I'm so happy to see you.”

“You too, son, you too.”

Blaine grabs Kurt's suitcase and urges Almaz to follow him as he walks towards his father in law. Kurt releases him and Blaine smiles wide when Burt's eyes fall on him. They're still as warm, inviting and fatherly as he can remember. It makes Blaine feel all warm and happy inside to know Kurt is loved so deeply by this man, still, after having not seen him for more than a decade.

“Mr Hummel,” he says and reaches out his hand.

“Oh come here you silly boy,” Burt grabs Blaine's hand and pulls him down into a hug, “you deserve that for making my boy so happy, you know, and that little girl.”

“Hey!” Almaz says, “I'm fourteen!”

“Well,” Burt releases Blaine and takes a good look at Almaz, “you are the spitting image of your mother when she was your age.”

“You knew my mother at my age?”

“That was when she was thrown into the Arena, wasn't it?”

“Oh.” Almaz says, “I thought she was a year older than I am now?”

“Fourteen, fifteen, what's the difference. You look just like her, just as beautiful, my girl.”

Burt then pulls Almaz into a hug as well, and she goes willingly. They watch tentatively for a little while, but both Burt and Almaz see completely captivated by each other. They have talked almost daily, too, since Almaz started muttering her first words. She always saw Burt as a second grandfather and it must be quite overwhelming to finally meet him in real life.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asks Blaine, reaching down to hold his hand, “no flashbacks or bad memories, panic attacks?”

Blaine is just about to answer he is absolutely fine when he sees a woman approaching behind Burt. She must be in her twenties, maybe thirty, she's tall, blond and if they ever thought Almaz was the spitting image of Quinn, they had obviously never met this woman

Yet, this woman looks exactly like her father in the way she moves, the way she holds herself and her eyes, too, are those of her dad. Or maybe her uncle, Blaine freezes in his place when he sees her uncle in the woman. She smiles then, and Quinn is back in her face. She looks like Quinn when she smiles.

“It's true...-” Blaine says. This was the reason they came here, this was maybe the reason why he was so afraid to meet her and at the same time the reason he knew he had to. She looks like all three of them in a way, and it freezes Blaine in his place. It's the first time he realizes fully why Quinn was so incredibly distant his year of the Hunger Games.

“What is?” Kurt asks and looks between Blaine and the woman. “Oh,” he says then, “that.”

“Yes, that.”

He had watched Quinn's Games about three years after they got back to District 9. He was too young to remember them and he felt like he didn't know enough for when Almaz would start to ask questions. It was difficult to watch, he could see in everything that Quinn really loved the guy. It was awkward to watch when she would steal his food and water, but he felt strangely proud at the same time. He knew when he saw Noah Puckerman kill people that the boy from Four in his year did it the same way. Sure, they were both from the fishing District, but something about the way he moved had struck Blaine and only after he finished Quinn's Games was the first time he looked up the name of the only person he had ever killed.

It had been a shock when he read it, he'd been able to ignore it for so long and he still denied it, said that Puckerman could be a common name in District 4. Yet now, as this woman approaches, there is no denying. She almost looks more like her uncle than she does her father, and Quinn. She is a perfect, beautiful combination of the three of them. She keeps smiling as Kurt and Blaine stare at her. A tall, beautiful woman with long dark hair walks behind her. She seems just a little younger than Burt, with sharp features and a warm, motherly face. She holds her daughter's hand firmly as they approach, walking tall.

Almaz and Burt release each other's hold and then Almaz follows her parents' gaze. She gasps when she sees her, spitting image of the mother she knows from pictures. This woman is a little older than her birthmother was ever allowed to be, and she must look exactly the way Almaz imaged her to look.

“Hi,” the woman says when she is standing right in front of Almaz. “You must be my little sister. I am Beth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me until here! It is the end :-). The song used is 'Almaz' by Randy Crawford. It's the song that Quinn's been singing throughout the story :-).


End file.
